Hero
by Aly208
Summary: Oh no! Many nations have been kidnapped; including England! This calls for - drum roll please - the hero, America, to rescue his sweet beloved! But France wouldn't try to take England's heart or England's brothers totally wouldn't get in the way...right?
1. Chapter 1

Hero

Summary: Oh no! Many nations have been kidnapped; including England! This calls for – drom roll please – the hero, America, to rescue his sweet beloved! But France wouldn't try to take England's heart or England's brothers totally wouldn't get in the way…right?

Pairings: GerIta, slight PruIta, Turkey/Greece, DenNor, USUK, slight FrUK, Spamano, Austria/Hungary, RussLiet, SuFin

~ Hetalia! ~

"Ah! Put me down!" Arthur's shrill yell pierced through the dark alleyway, as a heavy set man picked him up and measly threw Arthur over his shoulder.

Pounding his fists on the man's back, Arthur yelled out loudly, "Alfred! Help me!"

Then, all of a sudden, _bam! _The brick wall from the alley vanished; instead a man with an 'identical' blue superman costume came out.

"Don't worry, Artie! I'll save you!" A loud punch was heard, Arthur went flailing in the air as the kidnapper dropped him from the impact of the punch.

As Arthur shut his eyes, waiting for the impact, he instead felt strong arms carry him.

"Oh, Alfred, you're such a hero," said Arthur gratefully, over dramatically kissing Alfred, the American kissing back even more readily.

Then black.

"That movie sucked, dammit!"

"Lovi, calm down."

"Shut up, Antonio!"

"_Mein Gott, _I should have stopped this."

"Ve~! Doitsu, can I have some pasta?"

"Kesesese! Don't worry Italy; I'll make you some pasta if you do me some 'favors' when we get home."

"_Bruder_!"

"I can't believe you made me say such horrible things, Alfred!"

"_Angleterre, _I thought you looked so adorable when you were helpless."

"Shut up, frog!"

"Say, Norge, you think we can make our own 'movie,' too?"

"No."

"But, _Angleterre, _you're expression was so fu-"

"Was so what, Francis? Care to finish that sentence?"

"Alfred, you're in trouble anyway! Kicking France's ass won't help, even though you're both gits."

"I liked that kiss at the end; can you make some more movies for me, Alfred?"

"Elizaveta! You already have a bunch of these at home!"

"I love you Roderich, but at times like these: shut up!"

"What kind of favors, Gilbert?"

"You know the things that you've seen in West's videos . . .? OW! Stop it, West!"

Ludwig held tightly onto Gilbert's ear in his hand and said bluntly, "We're leaving."

The Germans walked towards the exiting door as Ludwig talked to Gilbert in a scolding/threatening voice, "If I ever see you do any of those things with Italia . . ."

"OK, but I don't promise anything!" Gilbert sped out of the door quickly before his younger brother could say or do anything.

Sighing, shaking his lead, and looking back at the same time, Ludwig said, "You're coming with us too, Feliciano."

The giddy Italian jumped out of his seat like a delicate fairy as Gilbert ran into the room again. "He is, West? Come on Ita-chan!"

Gilbert grasped Feliciano's hand and dragged him out of the room, the brunette compromising with ease. Ludwig watched the two carefully, and rushed to follow the duo. Everyone watched the three leave in silence. Romano burst with anger.

"Those stupid potato bastards, taking advantage of my stupid little brother," said Romano, muttering under his breath. Antonio got a tomato from out of nowhere and rubbed it against his boyfriend's cheeks.

"Look Lovi, your cheeks are redder than the tomato!" Antonio exclaimed. Romano, so angry you could almost see steam from his head, grabbed Antonio's hand and ran out of the Conference room, where everyone heard the yells from Romano outside the hall anyway.

Roderich stood up, and without a word, went to the door, signaling Elizaveta to follow him, but before she did, she went to Alfred.

"Don't forget; make some movies for me, right?" Alfred nodded, but with a puzzling look, as if trying to decode a special message meant just for him.

"Elizaveta!" called Roderich impatiently. Elizaveta raced at record speed, stopping right next to Roderich. The two promptly left with Elizaveta pouting at something Roderich had said.

"Norgeeee, why can't we make a movie?" Denmark pouted, leaning on Norway's arm.

Norway sighed and shrugged Denmark off. "I don't want to be publically humiliated because of you. You can go and make your own movie."

"No!" Denmark shouted like a five year old throwing a tantrum. "You have to make the movie with me."

Norway immediately got up off his seat. Denmark followed suit, but questioned the Norwegian. "Hey, Norge, where are you going?"

"Nowhere you are."

"Don't leave me!" yelped Denmark, following his Norge. "Wait for me! Please?"

After that quite weird moment, the only ones left in the room were Francis, Alfred, and Arthur. Alfred stomped to Francis with a menacing look in his eye that made Francis flinch.

"You never finished that sentence," said Alfred bluntly, waiting for a quick response.

Francis pulled at his collar, he suddenly felt hot. "What sentence? I don't know what you're talking about."

Alfred griped at a chair tightly, gripping so hard that his knuckles were turning white. "How about the one where you were about to say something dirty about Arthur? Remember that one?"

Blankly looking at Alfred for a moment, Francis ran to the door, but winked at Arthur and said, "See you tomorrow, _mon petit lapin._"

Scowling loudly, but not attempting to follow Francis, Alfred hit his fist on the table hard.

"That son of a-"

"Alfred," interrupted Arthur, folding his arms over his chest, walking towards his boyfriend. "I can protect myself just fine."

"I know, I know! That France just makes me so . . . so. . ."

"Irritated?" answered Arthur for him, getting closer to Alfred. "Imagine dealing with that for centuries."

Alfred just nodded, imagining what that would've been like. They stood in silence for a few minutes before Arthur spoke up.

"We should get going," Arthur said awkwardly, arms back at his sides once more.

"Yeah," replied Alfred. He looked at the door and then back at Arthur. "Last one out of the building is a rotten Francis!"

He ran past the door, but still close enough to so that he could hear Arthur yell back, "Not fair!"

Dodging between obstacles, Alfred looked back to see Arthur behind his trail. Needing to speed up, he sharply turned the corner, close enough to the wall to be able to hug it.

Out of the frame of his glasses, Alfred saw his destination. He ran out of the building and yelled out, "I won!"

Many people turned to look at the strange, panting, and sweating man, only to go back to their own business after a second later.

Arthur ran out a few seconds later, only to accuse the man before him. "You cheater, you were closer to the door than I was!"

Shrugging, Alfred replied, "It's not my fault that nice guys always finish last."

"Hey! I do not always finish in last. I usually always win, but some people know that, so they think the only way to win is to cheat," Arthur retorted. The way he said it was like the most obvious thing in the universe.

The two English-speaking nations continued to walk their way to Alfred's house. The Briton complaining that New York was a horrible place to have a conference, that everything was too noisy and crowded, with the American arguing right back. Suddenly, Arthur stopped sharply in his tracks, startling Alfred.

"Oh, bugger," Arthur cursed, Alfred immediately stopping after his boyfriend. "I left my jacket at the meeting."

"You're jacket?" asked Alfred, a confused look on his face.

Arthur shot him a look. "Of course my jacket, I took it off on my chair when we came to the meeting."

"Oh yeah." Everything came flooding back to the American. "I'll go get it for you, Iggy."

"No," Arthur said sharply. "It's my jacket so I'll go get it. Don't call me Iggy, either."

"I'll come with you." The large nation pulled a hamburger out of his pocket, taking a humongous bite out of it.

"No, I'll go get it, you just stay here," the other nation said stubbornly, walking back towards the building.

Frowning, the American finished his hamburger in angry massive bites. He stood waiting for what he thought was twenty minutes, (eh, maybe it was five minutes) before going back to the large building.

What he saw wasn't his Artie, but instead a large note placed on the door that wasn't there before.

Taking the note, Alfred read it silently in his head.

"_Dear America, _

_As you should've realized, or we hope you realized, you don't see England. We've taken him hostage. If you don't follow as instructed, we will be forced to punish him even more severely. _

_We demand 1, 00,000,000 dollars in cash if you ever want to see your precious Artie again, along with some other nations. Call the police, we murder all of them, and give your Artie especially a slow, painful death. _

_Don't forget the hoovers. _

_Love, _

_I don't give a damn."_

Alfred felt like punching someone. Or more like someone specifically.

~ Hetalia! ~

_Anyone got anymore pairings? I want to include more pairings, (especially Asian ones) but I'm totally clueless. If anyone would like to help, it's greatly appreciated. _

_Review please, I need feedback. Did you like it, hate it? Would you like to see more of one pairing? Anymore plots or what happens afterwards? _

_Yes, you should have noticed that not only Arthur has been kidnapped, but I got to run. I have a feeling all the nations are going to go after me for this. _

_Ciao. _

_~Aly208_


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur slowly opened his eyes, fluttering them. What he saw worried him.

The first thing he noticed was that he was in a dark, grey room. He felt hard, cold concrete underneath him.

Sitting up, he looked around the room to find a bunch of other nations with him.

"Angleterre!"

Oh god, not him again.

He saw a blur of motion, and the next thing he knew he felt warm arms around him.

"Gah, get off of me, frog!" Arthur pushed Francis off of him, only to find his left arm burning in fury. Hissing to himself, he asked Francis a question.

"Where are we?"

Francis's smile dropped, replaced with a frown. "We've all been kidnapped. But I'm so glad you woke up! You were out for hours." 

Arthur's eyes bulged. "Kidnapped? No, you've got to be pulling a prank on me. The last thing I remember is getting my jacket from the Conference Room, and then . . . nothing."

"If I was pulling a prank, then would Feliciano be sobbing?"

Snapping his attention across the room, Arthur saw what exactly Francis said. He also saw Gilbert comforting the Italian, Spain as well. Looking around even more, he saw Lithuania hugging his knees in the corner, Finland quietly chatting with Norway, Greece sleeping (or unconscious?), and Austria leaning against the wall. He then looked at France, really looking at him. Noticing that everyone had their clothes slightly ripped worried Arthur even more.

"They didn't do anything to us but bring us here, right?" asked Arthur anxiously, lips slightly twitched.

Francis gave a look of thought. "No, I don't think they did anything else. The ones that were the most injured were the ones that struggled more."

Arthur said nothing for a while. He felt Francis's eyes roam his body, making him feel uncomfortable. Oh, how he wished to be home with Alfred right now. . .

"Angleterre?" Francis asked as he saw Arthur get up off the floor. Looking at his face, Francis could tell that Arthur was in serious pain.

"I'm going to chat with the others," replied Arthur. His left arm hurts like hell, but he needed to know what happened to the others.

Francis shook his head. "No, you look like you're in pain. Sit down and let me check you over."

He glared at the French man. "I know what I'm doing. Leave me alone." With that, Arthur went over to Feliciano, Gilbert, and Antonio. Looking at the site before him, he saw Feliciano sitting on Gilbert's lap, crying into the German's chest, Gilbert held onto the Italian tightly, with Antonio patting Feliciano's back, talking to Gilbert with a serious expression.

Gilbert and Antonio stopped talking as Arthur stood in front of them. 

"Hello," Arthur said awkwardly, sitting down next to Gilbert. Seeing Antonio and Gilbert looking serious made him cringe on the inside.

"Arthur," they both said in unison. Arthur cringed.

Feliciano looked up from Gilbert's chest, tears stopping. "A-arthur?"

"How are you doing?" asked Arthur considerately to all three, but looking directly at Feliciano.

Feliciano pulled from Gilbert's chest, but still sitting on his lap. He hiccupped. "Not g-good. I want Doitsu."

Arthur stared at how Gilbert's hands slightly tightened around Feliciano, but didn't notice what he was looking at as he thought of how he wanted Alfred.

Snapping out of his trance, Arthur knew the real reason why he was here. "Do you guys know what happened when you were kidnapped?"

Feliciano hid his face into Gilbert's chest again. As they all heard a loud sobbing noise, Gilbert almost smothered the Italian into his chest and Antonio continued to pat Feliciano's back.

Arthur gulped as he saw how Gilbert glared at him with red intense eyes.

"I'll tell you how we fricken' got here," Gilbert said angrily. "When I pulled Ita from the Conference room we were heading to the hotel that me, Ita-chan, and West, were staying at. On the way there, someone pulled Ita-chan from me so I went to punch them. I did, and they got pissed at me. So, they took me, too."

"Gilbert, calm down," Antonio said to his friend.

"No!" said Gilbert. "He made Ita cry again!"

Ignoring the comments, Arthur asked, "Where was Germany?" 

"West was way behind us," answered Gilbert, still angry.

"And you, Spain?" Arthur felt Francis's eyes on his back again, but did nothing about it.

"I was at my house, checking on the tomatoes. I felt someone grab me and I ended up here," Antonio answered briefly.

Arthur nodded. "Was anyone at your house?" 

"Lovi was!" Antonio spaced off and had a dreamy look on his face.

Feeling that he didn't want to stare at Antonio's spaced off look and Gilbert's glares, Arthur decided to go over to Toris next.

Toris was back in the corner of the room, holding his knees and rocking back and forth. Arthur swore he kept hearing, "I'm going to be OK" over and over.

"Hi, Lithuania," said Arthur, sitting back down.

Toris stopped rocking to look at Arthur. "England?"

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

Toris shook his head. "No."

Arthur hesitated, and then said, "Do you know how you were kidnapped?"

Nodding his head, Toris didn't look like he was about to bust into tears or minded much. "Yes, I was cooking dinner at Russia's house when I heard this loud noise come from the hallway. At first, I thought it was Russia, and thought nothing about it, but then I heard it again. I went to check it out and then I felt someone grab me."

"Where was Russia?"

"Ivan was upstairs," answered Toris truthfully.

Seeing that Arthur was giving him a confused look, Toris said, "He was sleeping."

Arthur said quietly, "Oh." He left Toris rocking.

Tino glanced up at Arthur as he came over, while Norway didn't even look up.

"Hello, Finland, Norway," Arthur spoke to them in his most gentle manner. He saw that Tino had tears in his eyes.

Tino said a quiet hello as Norway said, "Are you going to ask us how we got kidnapped?"

Arthur looked at him in surprise. "How did y-"

"Just because I'm kidnapped doesn't mean I'm deaf," Norway said blandly. It made Arthur wonder how Denmark could stand this.

"Then you won't mind telling how you got kidnapped first, Norway?" said Arthur harshly, he saw Norway glare.

"Fine, I was at Danmark's house and I was quietly reading a book in the living room. I felt arms wrap around me, thinking that it was just Danmark, I tried to push them off, but they wouldn't let go. I realized that it wasn't Danmark and tried to yell, but they muffled my mouth with a cloth. You should know what happens after," Norway explained, then added, "Danmark was putting the groceries in the fridge."

Arthur looked at Tino, gesturing for him to go.

"O-oh, I was finished with my shower and I opened the door, and then all of a sudden someone grabbed me and then I remember showing up here. Berwald was downstairs," Tino said, following the example of Norway. He rubbed at his eyes.

"Thank you," Arthur said, having the need to thank someone. He left before either two could say a word.

Arthur decided next that he'd go to Austria since Greece was asleep . . . or unconscious, whichever one came first.

"Hello, England," Roderich said formally, shaking hands with Arthur. Wincing, Arthur let go quickly.

"Hello, Austria," said Arthur, treating Roderich in the same formal way.

They stood in silence for a few moments before Arthur broke it.

"Would you mind telling me how you got kidnapped?" Arthur said bluntly.

Roderich raised an eyebrow. "Sure . . . let's see, I was in my music room reciting Chopin, waiting for Elizaveta to be finished with making dinner, when I got kidnapped."

Nodding quickly, Arthur said, "Thank you, Austria."

He turned to leave, seeing that Greece was up, when Roderich said, "Ah, but how did you get kidnapped, England?"

Arthur turned back to Roderich, surprised at the question. "I remember going back to get my jacket in the conference room . . . and that's it."

With that, Arthur headed towards Greece. "Hello Greece."

"Igirisu? Where am I?" He forgot that Greece was taking Japanese lessons from Kiku.

"I don't know where exactly we are, but we're all kidnapped," explained Arthur briskly.

Heracles's eyes slightly widened. "All I remember was taking a nap, waiting for that damn Turk to show up."

Arthur wasn't at all surprised that Heracles mentioned Sadiq. "That was exactly what I was going to ask you about; how you got kidnapped." 

Heracles looked confused. "Why would you ask everyone that?"

"I've been seeing a pattern as to how we all got kidnapped," said Arthur. "As you see, it looks like only the ones that were in a relationship – with the exception of France and Prussia – were kidnapped."

"But Sadiq and I aren't in a relationship!" Heracles argued defensively.

Arthur slightly smirked. "OK, fine, but why was Turkey coming over, then?"

Heracles looked flustered. "W-well, um, I just knew he was going to come over, he always stalks me!"

"No need to get defensive, I remember being like that about Alfred," Arthur spoke with the most sincere voice he could summon up.

Heracles didn't say anymore, drifting to sleep again. Arthur got up and went over to Francis.

"You're the last one, frog." Arthur sat down and felt Francis's arm around his shoulders. He pushed the undesirable thing away and scooted away from the French man.

"But why didn't you just do me first, _oui_?" asked Francis, leaning closer towards Arthur. "Both ways, of course."

Arthur wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Just answer the question, wine bastard."

"I was following you and _Ameriqa_" (insert Arthur's death glare here) "and I saw you go back to the conference room, I followed you, waiting to get a chance since _Ameriqa _wasn't there. I saw you get knocked out by someone, so I went up to that person and was about to beat them up, but they took me instead."

Arthur was shocked with the way that they kidnapped him so easily, but more so that Francis stood up for him. He was pleasantly surprised.

"T-thank you." Arthur still wanted his pride in tact, plus he was a tsundere, so he said, "But I can't believe they took you so easily."

Francis smirked. "But you are the one that got knocked out."

Blushing, Arthur cursed at Francis and chased him around the cell as Francis laughed and smirked. Francis froze and Arthur looked wildly at the door as they heard it slam.

"Well, well, look what we've got here."

~ Hetalia! ~

_Aly208: I know, I know! You all hate me, for this cliff-hanger and for not updating soon enough. I have an excellent excuse, though: homework and school. Seriously, I'm in honors, do you know how much homework that is? _

_Review, please! I'll try to update faster! _

_Ciao. _


	3. Chapter 3

"Alright, I know one of you took Norge!"

"Denmark! Stop waving that axe around, aru!"

"What about Spagna? Give him back you bastards!"

"Where's m'wife?"

"Everybody calm down, Feliciano and _mein bruder _are missing, as well!"

"My _fratello's _missing, too? I'm going to beatyou, potato-loving bastard!"

"Greece isn't here either! When I find out which one of you took him. . ."

"Greece-san is missing?"

"Kolkolkol, you all will help me find Lithuania, _da_?"

"Liet's missing? Like, no way!"

The door slammed open, everyone immediately shutting up as they saw an incredibly furious looking American.

"Let's all calm down," Alfred said in an eerily calm voice. Everyone immediately zipped their mouths.

"Alright, do you all have a note?" asked Alfred with the eerily calm voice. Nodding, most took out a small piece of paper.

Alfred snatched the notes from everyone, reading them over. He noticed that all the notes were the basically the same; with the exception of the names.

Alfred laid down the all the notes, taking them all in. There was something about them that he couldn't lay his finger on.

"How about we call the police?" Denmark asked, swinging his axe.

Now, Alfred wasn't one to lose his temper. That was Arthur, Romano, anyone else who needed to take anger management class. "Are you nuts? Did you even read the notes? Everyone will die if we do that!" Denmark sank back into his seat, feeling the glares of the nations.

"Is there anyone else who doesn't have a stupid question?" Alfred looked at Denmark daringly.

"C-can I read the notes?" A small voice piped up. Alfred looked around the room, trying to identify the owner of the voice. He found his brother, Matthew, sitting in one of the seats.

Alfred blinked. "I didn't see you there, Mattie. Yeah, fine, have a crack at them." The Canadian flinched as the notes were thrown at him.

Everyone stared at Matthew intently, not letting their gaze fade. Only after a few minutes Canada spoke up.

"There seems to be a clue," declared Matthew softly.

"What is it?" Romano burst, startling Matthew.

"W-well, on every card that same hint is on there: _hoovers_," Matthew said the word as if it was poison.

Silence took its course for the next moment. Sadiq decided to intervene.

"What the hell are hoovers?"

Alfred shrugged along with everyone else.

Matthew raised his hand. "I believe Hoover's is a company."

"Why would they say _'don't forget the company?'_?" Alfred was puzzled, as if his face already didn't tell you he was.

"I don't know! I'm just telling you what I know!" yelped Matthew, gripping onto his chair.

Ludwig stood up. "Let's think rationally here. Maybe Hoover's can be helpful as to where all the others are."

"I still think that one of you took Spagna and my _fratello_!" said Romano, pointing his finger at Ludwig. "I bet it was you, to have your own sick way. . ."

That was when the arguing took its rightful place. It only lasted for a few minutes before there was a sudden chill and a dark feeling of despair.

"Kolkolkol, I agree with Germany. Does anyone object?" Ivan leaned towards Romano, who shook his head and hid under the table.

Ludwig cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Uh . . . thank you Ivan." Ivan nodded cheerfully, but his eyes deceived him.

"As I was saying, Matthew, do you know what Hoover's manufactures?" asked Ludwig.

Matthew nodded. "Yeah, they create vacuums."

"Hmm," Alfred pondered. "Vacuums. . ."

Feliks stopped staring at his nails. "Like, what if they're all, like, at a Hoover's factory or something?"

Alfred paused to stare at the Polish man. "Feliks, you're a genius! I could kiss you, but I won't!"

"No thanks," said Feliks, playing with his hair. "I'd, like, totally rather have one of Liet's kisses."

That chill returned, along with a rather obnoxious, "Kolkolkol." Everyone shivered. Feliks looked like he regretted what he said, but said nothing.

"I have a question, aru," Yao spoke up. "How will we know where everyone is even if they're at a Hoover's factory?"

Alfred thought and thought. Hoover's sounded familiar. . .

"I remember Hoover's!" Alfred hopped out from his chair, surprising everyone. "Their headquarters is in Austin, Texas!"

Of course everyone paused, thought Alfred, Don't they believe me?

"Then what are we waitin' around for?" demanded Sadiq, pounding his fists on the table.

Kiku spoke up quietly. "But we don't know if everyone is there exactly. What if they're at another Hoover's? Besides, we don't know everyone's that missing."

"I agree with Kiku. Let's take a head count." Ludwig pushed Alfred and Sadiq both into their seats.

"Arthur?" Ludwig began.

"Kidnapped," snarled Alfred and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Heracles?"

"Where the hell do you think he is?" 

"Tino?"

"M'wife's not 'ere."

The list continued like that, until they came across Francis's name.

"_What? _He's not here?" Alfred's eyes bulged out of his head.

Ludwig nodded. "As much as I'm terrified for my brother and Feliciano, I can't help but feel scared as to what Gilbert might pull on Feliciano."

Taking his head in his arms, Alfred zoned out from everyone. He barely heard that Roderich and Elizaveta were absent.

"It looks like we all know who's gone," said Ludwig, rubbing his forehead absently. "Does anyone have anything to say?"

Denmark nodded. "Are we going to go or what?"

Ludwig sighed. "I know we all want our loved ones, but jumping to conclusions isn't going to work."

Sadiq scoffed. "We're not exaggerating. I, for one, know everything and I know that Heracles and the others are in Texas!"

Ludwig shook his head as Kiku stared at the Turkish man who got up out of his seat and started to parade around the room.

"Sadiq-san, I agree with Ludwig," said Kiku.

Sadiq gasped loudly. "Kiku, listen to this: we all know that probably everyone kidnapped is beaten and bruised, but can you think about Heracles like that? Without his little filth- I mean cats he'd look like a puppy that's been kicked!"

Kiku looked around, watching everyone glare at Sadiq. He decided to agree with Turkey, but only because he saw Ivan get out his pipe.

"F-fine, I agree with Turkey." 

"Let's take a vote!" Alfred declared, snapping attention to himself like a fly to a lantern. "Everyone who agrees with Turkey's idea raise your hands."

More than half the room raised their hands.

"We're going to Texas!" Alfred declared, standing from his seat.

~ Hetalia! ~

_Aly208: The chapter's a bit late, but I went to Cedar Point on the weekend and I've been having quizzes and tests like crazy. Also, the chapter's shorter than the other ones, but I've been meaning to update. You guys were expecting the cliff hanger from last chapter, right? Well, sorry, but that'll be next chapter. Don't worry. _

_See y'all next chapter. _


	4. Chapter 4

"Elizaveta?" Arthur croaked out. What was going on here?

Elizaveta stepped out from behind two sturdy, buff men. She smiled cheerfully. "Hello, guys!"

Arthur saw Elizaveta's eyes went up and down the room, scanning everyone and everything. Her eyes widened at the sight of Roderich.

"Roderich!" gasped the Hungarian. "What are you doing here? I told them not to take you specifically!"

Francis inched towards the angry women, moving slightly in front of Arthur.

"What do you mean?" asked Francis, the anger evident in his voice.

"You see," Elizaveta began nervously, looking sheepish. "This was all a plan to get my yaoi fill. I've been missing out lately and then a man came along and told me about his plan to get a bunch of yaoi. I agreed with his plan, telling him about all of you guys. But I didn't know he would take if out this far." Her eyes turned ablaze. "I would've never agreed to it, but now I'm stuck here too."

"So now we're all in here because you didn't get your boy on boy fill!" bellowed Gilbert.

"Don't yell at big sister Hungary!" Feliciano said scornfully. Gilbert quieted down immediately.

As Elizaveta turned to see Feliciano, her eyes shone with tears. "Ita-chan! They got you here, too? What have I done . . .?"

"It's not your fault! He just tricked you," said Feliciano and went to go hug Elizaveta, but everything went wrong as one of the men stepped out and swiftly delivered a punch to Feliciano's delicate face. Hell broke loose.

Gilbert had to be restrained by Roderich and Antonio as he yelled angry insults to the men, Feliciano had fell on the floor from the impact and was crying as he held his face in his hands, Elizaveta was yelling about how she was going to get her frying pan, and Francis clenched his fists and looked like he had trouble controlling himself.

"Shut up!" barked the man who punched the Italian. "If you don't shut up_ he'll_ be the first one taken!" He pointed at Feliciano.

That had shut everyone up. Even Feliciano, whose tears were becoming slowly muffled, was quiet.

"There, that wasn't too hard, was it?" teased the other man. Gilbert growled.

The first man continued. "If we here you brats get loud again, we'll take one of you. That's a warning. You try to escape and you'll be tortured even more."

Both men and Elizaveta turned to leave, but the Hungarian spoke first. "I need to go guys. I might see you later, though. Love you, Roderich." She looked at her husband expectantly.

Roderich did nothing at the 'I love you,' but just watched his wife exit the room in silence.

Gilbert rushed over to Feliciano as soon as the men left. Arthur grimaced. Feliciano was sporting a new, black eye.

Although most were silent, Tino had silently started crying and Toris was helping Gilbert with Feliciano along with Antonio. Francis had also gone to help, but returned to Arthur's hip as soon as he was done.

"You're so needy," complained Arthur, as he scooted away from the Frenchmen.

"I'm not needy, I'm just worried about your safety," replied Francis, as he scooted closer to Arthur.

Norway scoffed while patting Tino's shoulder. "I swear you guys are just like an old married couple."

Arthur crossed his arms over his chest. "We are most definitely not! What about Alfred?"

Francis nodded. "As much as I would love to grow old with Arthur, _Amerique _would have my head."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," scoffed Arthur. "Alfred wouldn't hurt a fly, well, except for that one time with Russia. . ."

Raising an eyebrow, Norway said, "Have you seen the way America glares at everyone who goes near you? Yeah, he wouldn't hurt a fly all right."

"What are you two talking about?" exclaimed Arthur. "Alfred is absolutely harmless! Really, the only ones who will hurt you are Germany and Russia."

"_Amerique _is just the same as Germany and Russia," argued Francis, putting his arm around Arthur's shoulders.

"I've had enough talking about this nonsense! Don't touch me again, France!" Arthur shrugged off France's arm off his shoulder and pushed the wandering hand away.

Francis pouted. "But _Angleterre-_"

"No buts!" said Arthur dismissively, turning his back to the Frenchman.

"Even yours?"

Arthur blushed as red as a tomato and tried to hit Francis with his fists, but failing so.

"Ah, _Angleterre, _you are so cute! Just like a _petit lapin._" Francis giggled (un)manly like. Flushing even more, Arthur began hitting harder with his flailing fists. That caused Francis to even giggle more.

When Francis and Arthur heard another giggle from behind them, they both immediately stopped what they were doing and turned around. The smiling face of Feliciano looked at the pair and giggled even louder.

"Ve~! Big brother France and England are so cute together!" It was as if Feliciano was never punched; completely forgetting about it.

Although Arthur said nothing, and turned away and huffed, Francis saw the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. Of course, this made Francis smile a truly loving smile, not the crazed perverted one he usually had.

The family-like moment ended when Toris had come from chatting with Gilbert, and asked Feliciano if he was feeling OK.

Feliciano nodded cheerfully. "Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"

Toris hesitated for a moment, before saying, "Never mind that. Come on, let's go talk to Tino and try to make him feel better."

"Ve~! OK!" chirped the bubbly Italian and followed Toris.

Arthur shook his head. "That Veneziano, how could he forget that he was punched just by watching us two?"

Francis moved closer to Arthur. "Feli is just that person who is all sunshine and happy days. There are really no gloomy ones for him."

"I'd like to be like that," said Arthur after a moment. He sighed. "Frankly, I'm quite the opposite."

"_Mon cher, _you're perfect the way you are." Francis had the overwhelming urge to hug the Briton, but for once, actually controlled himself.

No words were spoken over the next few minutes, just the comforting silence.

"Francis?" asked Arthur. The Frenchman snapped his head around so fast that he was surprised it didn't fall off. But it would be worth it; Arthur had actually called him by his human name.

"D-do you think we're going to die here?" spoke Arthur in a tone so soft it was barely a whisper. Francis squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

"No, of course we won't. The other nations will surely come for us. _Amerique _must be scared to death for you."

Arthur looked worried. Francis swore he saw tears well up in his eyes. "But we don't even no where we are, how will they know?"

"That's thing, Arthur," said Francis, using Arthur's human name. "We don't."

Seeing more distress on the Englishman's face, Francis quickly added, "The other nations will definitely find us though! Cross my heart and hope to die."

Arthur chuckled. The sensitive side of Arthur Kirkland was gone. "Don't try and sugarcoat it, frog."

Francis was left speechless. How could one switch between emotions so fast?

"I think I'm going to follow Greece's example and take a nap." Arthur lay down on the floor quietly and closed his eyes. Francis waited until Arthur's breathing turned slower before he edged over to him.

Francis began to murmur soft lullabies as he put Arthur's head in his lap and began stroking his hair. Arthur smiled lightly in his sleep.

The thought that this was probably one of the last peaceful times for Arthur for a while was truly heartbreaking to the Frenchman

This was why Francis wasn't going to go without a fight.

~ Hetalia! ~

_OMYGOD, how have I not updated this story in how many weeks? Hope you enjoyed the update!  
_

_~Aly208_


	5. Chapter 5

Alfred had tried to call for a cab as soon as he raced out the building, but his phone ringing distracted him. The caller ID was unfamiliar, but since it could be the kidnappers, Alfred didn't risk it.

"Yo, America here," said Alfred, completely normal.

"America, have you seen Arthur?" the voice was frank, but familiar. Where had he heard that voice again?

Alfred blinked. "Who the hell are you?"

The voice on the other end sighed, and Alfred thought he heard yelling in the background.

"Wales," answered the voice. "Dylan. Arthur's brother. Ring any bells for you?"

"Oh, yeah!" Alfred said cheerfully, happy to remember. "Sorry Wales, but I'm busy right now –"

Another voice over took the phone, a harsh Scottish accent that was yelling at him. "Jest what do ya think we're doin' over 'ere?"

"Iain, give back the phone to me! You're just going to scare him off!" Alfred heard Dylan yelling at this man. This guy sounded familiar, too. . .

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you talking about? And who are you?" asked Alfred. That poor, American, idiot, he never really remembered anything, did he?

The Scottish voice yelled at him again. "What in the 'ell do ya mean ya don' know 'ow I am?"

Realizing his mistake, Alfred remembered. "S-scotland! H-how are you?"

"Don' try ta cover up yer mistake," Scotland told him. "We've been tryin' ta look fo' ou' brat o' a brother, Arthur. Do ya know where 'e is?"

It was hard for Alfred to understand the Scot's accent, but eventually Alfred replied. "Yeah, about Arthur. . . Well, don't yell, OK?"

"Where. Is. My. Brother." Scotland was practically gritting his teeth.

Alfred gulped. "He – he's been . . . kidnapped."

There was a silence over the phone. Alfred swore he heard a gun being loaded.

Then, there was a bunch of incoherent yelling from more than one person. All four brothers must've been there, Alfred thought.

Dylan started talking into the phone again. His voice was calm, but Alfred could hear his voice seething in rage. "Do you know any information?"

Alfred nodded, but suddenly realized that Dylan couldn't have possibly seen that. "Yeah, but not only Arthur's missing. All the other nations are coming with me to Austin, Texas because we think that's where everyone else is."

There was a brief pause, with the sound of more arguing in the background.

Another new voice, but Alfred remembered this voice as Northern Ireland. "All four of us are heading to that place too, then. Meet us at the airport in whatever that place is called again."

"Austin. Austin, Texas," repeated Alfred.

"Right, well, meet us at the airport there." Before Alfred could even ask any more questions, the phone hung up. Alfred immediately deflated.

As Ivan passed on, he saw Alfred's face expression and stopped.

"America? What is the problem, da?" asked Ivan. Alfred, troubled with his own problems, completely forgot that he was talking to Russia, of all people, and answered back sadly,

"Arthur's four older brothers are coming with us."

Ivan looked at him with sympathy, understanding what Alfred meant. "Toris has two younger brothers, too." But when Ivan had mentioned Toris, he thought of his lover being locked in a cold, dark room, which brought up his dark aura.

Ivan 'kolled' away, but Alfred didn't notice. All he thought of was, 'Arthur's brothers are coming, Arthur's brothers are coming.'

~ Hetalia! ~

Amazingly, after many long hours, the Kirkland brothers had still managed to arrive from the United Kingdom before Alfred and the other nations from New York.

"_Idiota! _If we didn't have to first get you hamburgers, and for you to argue with the security guards, we would've came earlier!" complained Lovino to Alfred. Luckily, Alfred had the power of being oblivious to anything, or everything around him.

"OI! There he is!" Alfred heard a voice from the distant. Oh, god. . .

"Hey, America, long time no see, eh?" Northern Ireland swung his arm around Alfred's shoulders. "Why didn't 'cha call us when you found out about Artie? Iain's awfully mad at you." As if to prove it, Northern Ireland even poked Iain's cheek, provoking Iain enough to bit his finger.

"Patrick, I reckon you to stop botherin' Iain. We're all angry enough already," said Ireland.

Patrick stuck out his tongue at him. "Ah, shut up, Seamus. I'm 'bout as angry as you guys are about Artie!"

Seamus said something in a language that Alfred did not understand (Gaelic? Alfred thought, something like that) that caused Iain's eyes to become wide and rounded.

Then, Dylan took him by the shoulders and walked away from the yelling mess that was Iain.

"America, have you and Arthur ever done the . . . 'dirty deed?'" questioned Dylan, standing pretty far away from the other Kirkland brothers. Alfred saw Ivan's eye catch his with a surprising look of . . . sympathy? Startled, Alfred turned back toward Dylan.

"Uh, what? Oh, no. Arthur wants to go really slow," Alfred replied; feeling a tiny bit embarrassed.

Dylan sighed in relieve. "Oh thank god, Iain and Seamus would've killed you if you did. I actually quite like you for being my brother's boyfriend." Dylan's voice then turned into a whisper. "Don't tell anyone this, especially France; he'll go stalking Arthur, but Arthur's still a virgin."

If Alfred had been eating a hamburger, he would've chocked on it in surprise. "Iggy's still a –"

The Welsh man shushed him. "Quiet! Do you literally want the whole world to know?"

Alfred quickly shook his head.

"Good," said Dylan, still in a whisper. "The reason that Iain was yelling, though, was because Seamus had said that Arthur could get his virginity taken away while he's kidnapped. Iain doesn't want to believe it, and keeps yelling at us when anyone insinuates it."

Alfred's jaw hung open and he looked too furious to describe. He started to growl. "If those kidnappers even touched Iggy there. . ."

Dylan raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you cared so much for my brother. Do that around Iain and he'll make sure you and Arthur won't break up."

"Not time for jokes, Wales!" said Alfred loudly. The other nations turned around and looked at Alfred in surprise.

Ludwig cleared his throat. "America, maybe you should tell England's brothers about the plan." 

"Huh?" Alfred spun around and faced Ludwig. "Oh, yeah, well we're going to the Hoover's factory in Austin, Texas. That's where we think everyone is. Before that, we arranged a meeting with one of Russia's 'friends' who will give us 'supplies.' Then, we burst in the factory and bang, bang, bang, everyone's dead! I'll go rescue Arthur, swoop him in my arms, go out into the sunset and have many kids, and live happily ever after!"

Ludwig face-palmed at the same time Romano cursed in Italian.

"What?" asked Alfred. "That plan is flawless, especially the end!"

"We should try and see if Russia's friend is here, aru!" said Yao, happy to get away from the topic of the American's helpless personality.

The other nations agreed with Yao. As they all looked around, someone poked Alfred's shoulder. He spun around to come face to face to Iain.

"Let's 'ave a talk, jest ya and me."

~ Hetalia! ~

_WOOT! Another update! Anyone excited for Halloween? That's going to be awesome! My birthday is in a month and my parents are going to get me Hetalia season one and two! I'm so happy! _


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur woke up with a dissatisfying groan. The reason why was because his head was in a specific Frenchman's lap, and was currently being fondled with. Oh, how Arthur wished to be home, but he'd settle for the second best thing and beat up Francis.

"Frog!" barked Arthur, not in his usual sharp tone, but in a more half-annoyed, softer tone. Francis immediately stopped fondling him. "What are you doing to me?"

"You were having a nightmare. What else was I supposed to do?" replied Francis innocently.

Not being too drowsy enough to believe that, Arthur said, "I think I'd know when I'm having a nightmare."

Francis gave him a confused look. "But, _Angleterre, _you were having a nightmare. You were thrashing all over the place. Greece had even woken up from his nap, you were so loud."

Arthur scoffed. "What are you talking about? I was not having a nightmare."

Another look Francis gave Arthur, except this one was sympathetic. "You were, touch your face. It's still tear-stained." To prove his point, Francis touched Arthur's cheek and showed his hand to Arthur. "See? It's still wet."

Arthur touched his cheek. Francis was right; his whole face seemed to be hot and wet.

"What the?" asked Arthur, looking at his hand with disbelief. "How did – but how? I don't remember anything."

Shrugging, Francis said, "I'm not sure, but I hope you don't have another one. It was horrible watching you; and I couldn't even do anything. I kept trying to wake you up, but you couldn't. It was like if someone was controlling you. . ."

"Don't be so ridiculous." Arthur dismissed the idea by giving his hand a single wave. "That would never happen."

"I don't know, Arthur. A lot of things have been happening lately," Francis said depressed. Arthur gave Francis a shocked look; he had for once called him by his actual name.

There was a long pause, where Arthur could hear the blabber of Feliciano, the slight sniffling of Toris (who disguised it pretty well, mind you), Norway murmuring to himself quietly, and Roderich pretending to tap piano keys on the wall.

"Hey." A relaxed voice brought Arthur out of his reverie. The tanned, brown-haired Greek was right beside him.

"Oh, hullo Heracles," Arthur said in his most gentleman-like voice, which was considerably weird due to the circumstance he was in. "Erm, anything you wanted?"

Heracles shook his head slowly. "Well . . . not really. It wouldn't be very important, but what do you think that they are going to do to us?"

It was a question that Arthur didn't need to ask as who 'they' were. "I – I'm not really sure. Why don't you ask Roderich that question instead?"

Sensing the mood (just like he had learned from Kiku), he said, "Sure, I'll go ask Roderich."

Arthur unconsciously shivered as he thought of what might happen to each and everyone of them. Francis decidedly thought he could try and bust a move, so he put his arms around Arthur and smothered him to his chest.

"You smell nice," Francis murmured into Arthur's hair as he squeezed Arthur.

Arthur became slightly agitated, but instead of bringing out the big guns (they were actually more like toy guns, but it was cute how Arthur thought of himself), he settled for one word as a test, and said in a sing song voice,

"Alfred~"

At that, Francis froze and pushed Arthur away from him slowly, without even noticing what he was doing.

Ha, ha, I can't believe that actually worked, thought Arthur smugly. Who knew that Alfred could scare France so much?

Arthur continued to be smug when he saw Francis's eyes become wide and trying to pull Arthur closer to him.

"What, frog? I didn't know you were that afraid of Alfred." But Arthur's smugness disappeared as he felt himself lifted off the ground.

"What the bloody hell?" screamed Arthur, flailing and thrashing around in the tight grip he was held in.

Francis glared at the man with a passion of one thousand suns. "I would not do that if I were you."

The huge man scoffed and planted a full on lip to lip kiss on Arthur, who pulled away in disgust and began to try and hit him. "Oh, yeah? What are you going to do about it, Frenchie?"

Francis eye twitched like crazy, but that didn't stop him from shouting out, "_Antoine, _Gilbert, Bad Touch Trio, attack!"

As the man began to laugh at Francis's yell like crazy, Gilbert jumped up on the man's back, and in surprise and utter shock, the man dropped Arthur, who landed into Francis's opening arms.

The same time Gilbert clawed the man's back; Antonio threw himself at the man's legs, unbalancing the man and making him fall over on his face. The two Bad Touch Trio friends continued to attack the man without any mercy, even going as far as to bite him.

Watching his friends attack the guard made Francis have a twinkle in his eye, even though he wanted to punch the guard with all his might.

Arthur squirmed in Francis's hold, wanting to be let go, but Francis still held on. "Let me go! I want to kick his ass!"

Shaking his head, Francis said, "No, _Angleterre, _you mustn't." 

Arthur glared. "And why not? You let your friends go, but you won't let me go? You can't decide for me what to do."

But Francis still shook his head. "What if he touches you again? I'm not letting him get away with you."

Arthur gave a short humph and turned to watch the fight with satisfaction as Gilbert and Antonio continued to beat up the guard.

The fight escalated to the point where the guard was literally screaming in mercy and ran out of the cell. The kidnapped prisoners all cheered for Antonio and Gilbert. Feliciano had even ran up to Gilbert, hugged the life out of him, and called him a hero. That was the first time that Arthur had seen Gilbert blush.

"Thanks for the help guys," Francis told the two of them, still refusing to let go of Arthur, so it was a little weird when Antonio tried to get them all in a group hug.

"No problem, _amigo. _We're the Bad Touch Trio; inseparable!" Antonio had tried for another group hug, but Arthur yelled at them when he felt himself being squished against Gilbert and Francis's chests.

Gilbert winked at Arthur, who snorted in return. "Don't worry, Artie. If you get in trouble, just call the Bad Touch Trio, at your service!"

When Antonio and Gilbert left with Feliciano clutching onto Gilbert that was the time when Francis had finally let go of Arthur.

Arthur sighed. "Thank God you finally let go. I swear when I was between your and Gilbert's chests, I thought I was going to suffocate."

Francis wiggled his eyebrows. "But you liked it, _non_?"

Fake gagging, Arthur said, "You are so perverted it's not even funny."

"Ah, but you love it." Francis put his arm around Arthur's shoulders, but Arthur didn't budge. Francis tried his luck to put his hands in another places, but Arthur stopped him.

"You're only getting a chance to put your arm around my shoulder, and that's it. Take it or leave it," said Arthur, which made Francis put his arm around his shoulder as fast as lightning. Then Arthur added hastily, "Not that I like your arm around my shoulder, only because you saved me."

"Of course that's the only reason you let me," Francis said sarcastically, draping over Arthur. Arthur glared at him, as if to say are you forgetting something, which actually made Francis remember the deal.

"You do remember I have a boyfriend, right?" asked Arthur, staring at Francis. "And as soon as we're out of here you won't be able to do this, so just take it."

After Arthur finished talking, Francis slightly deflated. "OK, _mon petit lapin, _no need to get hissy."

Arthur fumed. "I am most certainly not hissy!"

Francis cooed and patted Arthur's head, which made Arthur fume even more. "You are so cute~"

"Get. Away. Git," growled Arthur and put his arms over his chest, but Francis did the complete opposite. Arthur sighed and dropped the subject. "I think I'm going to take another nap; I'm still quite tired."

Nodding, Francis said suggestively, "I'll sleep with you." 

Arthur just stared, as if not believing what he just heard. "Don't touch me."

Francis pouted, laid down on the cold, hard floor, and put Arthur's head on his chest. "'Nighty, night, _Angleterre._"

As soon as Arthur was sure Francis was asleep, he murmured quietly, "Night, Francis." And both fell into a sleep that would end up being tragic in the morning.

~ Hetalia! ~

_OMG! I got both of the Hetalia Seasons 1 and 2, I'm so happy! I hope all of you are having a great weekend! _


	7. Chapter 7

_Hey, for once I put the Author's note in the beginning of the chapter! I just wanted to say – er, write – thank you for all of my constant reviewers! And a special thanks to MelodyOfStarshine, who's been reviewing since the beginning! _

_Enjoy the chapter! _

~ Hetalia! ~

Dylan looked back nervously; his brothers-doing-something-wrong sense was tingling. What didn't shock Dylan was that Iain was interrogating Alfred. He knew his sense never lied.

"Hey," Dylan interrupted Iain, who looked like he was about to blow his top, "give the boy a break already. He's been having a hard time I suppose." 

Iain sent a furious look at the Welsh man and looked like he was about to say more, but left anyway. Alfred breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thanks, um . . . uh . . ." Alfred began, but didn't finish as Dylan interrupted him.

"Dylan." The blonde Arthur twin felt a twinge of annoyance, but he kept it well hidden.

Alfred looked sheepish and rubbed his neck with his hand. "Yeah, thanks Dylan. Scotland was giving me a really hard time. You see, I almost told him about the time Iggy and I were making out, and I kind of . . . pressured Iggy you could say, and he was so scared, and I felt like some kind of bad guy." Alfred's face changed from glum to bright in all in one second. "But then you came right as I was saying it! Thanks a lot, dude!"

Dylan's eye twitched as the American patted him on the back. "But . . . how . . . you never told me that you . . . you, Yankee! You ever do that to Arthur again and I'll bring both Iain and Seamus on your arse! "

People at the airport turned to look at the infuriated Welsh man, including many of the other nations. Alfred wildly looked around, as if expecting Iain to hear what he said and to come over to beat him right this minute. "Shh! I thought you'd be cool with this! I don't want anyone to hear!"

Shaking his head, Dylan was about to yell at Alfred and for his brothers – Alfred already flinching and trembling in fear as Dylan opened his mouth wide – but, fortunately for Alfred, Yao had yelled out that Ivan's 'friend' was here. Dylan's mouth clamped closed.

"You're lucky, you American filth." Dylan's glare made Alfred shiver more than the time Arthur told his brothers he was dating the American. When Patrick had taunted Alfred with that gun, he thought he would pee in his pants of horror. He'd never forget that memory.

"Come on, Dylan! It was just one mistake, and it never happened again! It didn't even go that far! I swear, I didn't pop Iggy's cherry!" Alfred said loudly, clutching onto Dylan's left leg with all his might.

"Let go of me!" Dylan tried to kick the heavy blonde off of him, but to no avail as he discovered that not only Alfred was heavy, but, man, could he hang on for life.

Alfred, though he was preoccupied clutching onto Dylan's left leg, felt the presence of someone behind him, and didn't turn around in fear that it was who he thought it was.

"What's this abou' poppin' muh wee brother's cherry?" The Scottish accent behind him was definitely not amused as far as Alfred could hear which was pretty hard to hear because he was busy shivering.

"N-nothing, j-just go back to whatever you were doing!" Alfred clutched to Dylan's leg even harder and hid his face in it. The Welsh man desperately tried to kick him off, but all it took was a hand of Iain's to wretch Alfred off of Dylan.

Iain put Alfred down on the ground to face him directly. Alfred felt small because one, Iain was taller, and two, Seamus was right next to Iain. Seamus didn't look as friendly as his arms were crossed over his chest.

The cigarette sticking out of the Scot's mouth was dangerously close to falling on Alfred. The American gulped and tried to back up, but Patrick was guarding him from behind. Patrick grinned like a maniac, as if to say 'Ha, ha, that's what you get~'

"Y-you guys s-s-should get going! We all should, 'cause Russ- I mean Ivan's 'friend' is here! Let's go!" Alfred tried to sprint out of there, but like a cartoon, his legs seemed to run in place as Iain held the back of his shirt.

"They can wait," grumbled Iain, then leaned in to Alfred's face. "What I want tae know is why ya were talkin' abou' muh brother's cherry."

Alfred's face visibly contorted into fear. "N-no! That's not what we were talking about, right Dylan?" Looking to Dylan for support, all Alfred got was one of the most disapproving stares he ever got (right after Arthur's of course).

"I swear to McDonald's that Iggy and I did nothing!" pleaded Alfred, tempted to fall on his hands and knees to beg for mercy. "The farthest we ever got was third base; barely!"

Iain just stared at him with unblinking green eyes that reminded Alfred of Arthur. Painfully, Alfred just realized that Arthur looked a lot like his siblings. And it hurt; a lot.

Then the unexpected happened. Iain had actually started laughing, along with Seamus and Patrick. Their laughter wasn't just a 'ha, ha,' it was a full, 100% gut buster. Dylan face palmed and just stared at the wall for a really long time.

"Ah, I knew ya nevah 'ad it in ya!" snorted Iain, slapping his knee.

Patrick laughed even louder. "I-I can't believe it! They've been dating, for what, fifty, sixty years now?"

The three brothers calmed themselves down after a while, Alfred just staring at them with his mouth gaping.

Iain wiped a tear out of his eye and patted Alfred's back hard. "Yer all right, lad. Thanks fo' lettin' muh brother be comfortable." Iain's face turned darker as he added, "But if ya evah pressure 'im, ya won' be livin' any longah."

Alfred chuckled nervously, backing away from the Scot. "I-I would never do that! I love him!"

Seamus smiled kind of warmly at him, which freaked Alfred out because he looked like he was about to hug and strangle someone at the same time. "Listen, what Iain means to say is that we don't like Arthur to be with someone who doesn't respect him. Arthur always had bad luck with dating, and usually dated the biggest douchebags that mostly

used him for his body. As his brothers, we made them learn where there place was, and we're just doing the same to you. Respect him and we'll get out of your hair."

Patrick whistled and started to clap appreciatively. "Wow that was some speech! You go Seamus! Football!"

Dylan lightly hit Patrick with the back of his hand on his head at the same time Iain turned to Alfred and said,

"But remembah, we'll be watchin' ya. Ya shove yer tongue down 'is throat, I'll shove ya against the wall. Ya touch 'im wrong, I'll throw a punch at ya. Ya 'it 'im, I'll get ya hospitalized. Ya force 'im to do somethin' and threaten 'im, then yer a dead man walkin'."

Alfred gulped hard. "Y-you don't have to worry about anything! I'll take good care of him! I swear on Ronald McDonald's grave!"

Both Seamus and Iain gave Alfred a hard look, but it was only for a short while, as Yao threatened to bring his Wok if they didn't hurry up sooner.

Alfred ran to where all the other nations were and cowered behind Kiku. The Japanese man looked at him strangely and almost questioned the American, but realized it would be useless to. He sighed, taking a step to his right, leaving Alfred open.

Dylan looked at Alfred and chuckled slightly. He didn't need to tell Alfred that his brothers weren't coming after him anymore. . .

It seemed that everyone noticed Alfred's strange behavior of cowering, because most nations gave him bizarre looks of annoyance or confusion.

Alfred looked up, finally noticing that Kiku wasn't shielding him anymore. Also noticing that no one seemed to be coming to kill him, he stood to his full height, eyes scanning the area warily. As he was scanning the area, Alfred saw that the Kirkland brothers were arguing with Ludwig. He strained his ears to hear what they were saying.

". . . What do you mean we have to wait for someone else?" That was Ludwig, his voice raised high.

Iain glared. "That's what I mean. We 'ave to wait for 'im! 'E'll be 'ere soon."

Ludwig and Iain had a stare down, but Iain won when Ludwig looked away and said, "Fine, we'll wait. But no more than fifteen minutes!" 

Patrick looked excited, bobbing up and down, using Seamus's shoulders for support. "We don't have to! There he is!" 

All the nations just looked to where Patrick was watching, including Alfred.

Just who is this? Alfred thought, trying to see over the other nations' heads.

"G'day mate!" Alfred heard, but couldn't see who the mysterious person was. He tried to bounce up and down, but Ivan blocked his view.

Warm greetings from the Kirkland brothers set Alfred off. If all the Kirkland brothers like this guy . . . then he must be a God!

". . . It seemed like it was only yesterday when you were wrecking Arthur's house with your boomerangs and animals!" Seamus said with elation clear in his voice. Alfred growled, unhappy to not be able to see this nation/man/thing/whatever it is.

Loud laughter also set Alfred off, but it was immediately gone after a second. The nations in front of Alfred departed from his view, so he was finally able to see! Overjoyed, he leapt to the front to see someone who looked familiar, but he couldn't place his finger on the name.

The man in front of him had tan skin, brown hair, and had a peculiar looking bandage right on top of his nose. The tanned man looked over from talking with the Kirkland brothers to Alfred. He grinned broadly.

"'Ello, Alfred!" The nameless man swung his arm over Alfred's shoulder. "How're you doing mate?"

Alfred was speechless. How could this accented man that seemed eerily like Arthur's accent remember him, but Alfred couldn't remember him? The fact puzzled Alfred deeply.

". . . you OK, mate? You look kind of constipated," the band aid nose man said. He waved his hand over Alfred's face. Alfred snapped out of his thinking.

"He probably doesn't remember your name," snorted Dylan, and then turned to face Alfred. "America, this is Australia. Remember him?"

"Oh yeah!" exclaimed Alfred, recalling his name. "I've seen you hang out with Iggy a few times."

Australia cocked a grin at the memories, then said, "Is that what you call Mum?"

Alfred looked confused. "Mum? You mean Iggy, right?"

"Yeah. . ." said Australia slowly and looked back at Arthur's brothers as if to say 'Is he OK in the head?' The brothers - excluding Patrick, who was too busy staring at everything else to really care – shook their heads.

"What are you doing here anyway?" asked Alfred. He wanted to save Iggy, go off into the sunset, and have many children already! OK, maybe not the last one, but Alfred could persuade Arthur to wear Britannia Angel costume. . .

"I thought it be kind of obvious actually," replied Australia. "I'm here to save Mum of course!"

Alfred stuck out his tongue at the Australian, which shocked him greatly. Weren't they on the same team here? "Well I'm going to rescue Iggy before you do! I'm the hero and he's my damsel in distress!" 

Australia raised an eyebrow along with the Kirkland brothers giving Alfred weird looks. The Australian looked like he was going to say something, but –

"Aiyah! I thought I told all of you Ivan's friend was here! Don't make me get my wok!" threatened Yao, who came in from the sidelines. "Let's go!"

Growling, Alfred followed Yao, the Kirkland brothers and Australia behind him.

Australia whispered quietly to Dylan, "Does he always get like this?"

Dylan smiled. "Only if he feels threatened; you should see him when France is around Arthur." 

Australia frowned slightly. "That France better not be touching Mum. Speaking of France, where is he anyway?" 

"Ah, he's been kidnapped with Arthur. . ." Dylan twitched. He heard how Alfred got furious when he heard Francis had been kidnapped with Arthur, and expected Australia to be the same. But Australia looked creepily calm, too calm in fact.

"Well, as long as he doesn't touch Mum, I won't pound his face." Dylan flinched a bit when he heard Australia cracking his knuckles. He didn't know who was worse about Arthur; Australia, America, Iain, or Seamus. 


	8. Chapter 8

Tossing, turning, tossing, turning; it was the same pattern over and over again as Arthur continued to fitfully move in his sleep. How Francis was not woken up by this moving was a mystery the world may never know.

Arthur all the while panted in his sleep, his heart beat racing as he struggled to wake up. Small tears began to form in his eyes, a tear slipped out and raced past his cheek to die at his lips. Even more tears began to stream down his face, while he moaned, groaned, and whimpered.

With a shrill shriek, Arthur woke up from his crazy nightmare, panting and more tears streaming down his face. Francis stirred next to him, along with the other kidnapped nations.

Arthur tried to muffle his sobs, but let one slip out, which was the last straw for Francis and woke up. The Frenchman immediately sat up, looking around crazily, his usual brushed hair in tangled messes.

"_Ce qui est arrivé? Arthur? Arthur! Mon cher, ce qui est arrivé? Êtes-vous d'accord? Pourquoi êtes-vous pleurer, mon petit lapin?__"_ Francis, so panicked at the sight of Arthur sobbing, began to speak in rapid French, all English thrown out of his head.

Only understanding a few select words, Arthur had completely no idea what Francis had said, but just threw his arms around the other blonde's neck and hid his head into the other's chest.

After Francis calmed himself down at the shock of Arthur hugging him and actually crying for once, he wrapped his arms around the Englishman and began to speak in English.

"Arthur, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Are you okay? What happened?" Francis bombarded Arthur with questions, and even if Arthur was trying to answer Francis – which he wasn't – he couldn't because the blue eyed man was so demanding.

But all Arthur just did was sob into Francis's chest, letting up his tears not even in the slightest bit.

Francis let Arthur sob into his chest for five straight minutes, until Arthur finally calmed himself down, and tried his luck at asking questions again.

"Arthur?" asked Francis quietly. Arthur looked up at the mention of his name. "Are you okay?"

Arthur nodded slowly, trying to wipe away the tears off his face with his sleeve discreetly. Francis saw this and cupped Arthur's face into his hands, gently wiping the tears for him.

"_Mon cher Angleterre, _what happened? Why were you crying?" Francis felt guilty at the sight of Arthur's lip quivering as he realized that Arthur must be remembering whatever happened to him.

"N-nightmare," whispered Arthur before he fell back onto Francis again. Francis felt even more guilty than before, which when you think about it, it would be impossible.

"Shh, it's okay. You're with me, nothing bad will happen," soothed Francis, wrapping his arms around Arthur once more, secretly praying to God that nothing bad will happen as they both fell asleep on each other.

~ Hetalia! ~

Arthur blinked his eyes, hoping that the bleariness will disappear soon. For some reason, he felt . . . strange, as if he wasn't where he should be.

As the last bleariness in his eyes went away, Arthur realized he was in a different room, even uglier than the room he was in originally (which was saying something, because dang that room was ugly), and was tied up by harsh ropes in a black, metal, uncomfortable chair. And since the chair was practically bruising his butt, the ropes were even worse, digging into his skin and scratching him every time Arthur tried to move.

Discovering that this felt so similar was an absolute shock to Arthur and he panicked on the inside, while he tried to escape on the outside, the ropes scratching him so excruciatingly that it felt like an animal was hunting him down, the animal's nails trying to open up his skin with their claws.

The wooden door being slammed shut caused Arthur to snap his attention up. Like a deer staring up at the headlights of a car about to crash into them, Arthur froze. There was no doubt about it; no other detail to put it, that Arthur had simply frozen like a statue.

"Hehe, remember me, sweet lips?" That tall, stocky man with the really thick black hair said. Arthur immediately recognized to his horror that that man was the same man who almost took him before, the same one who had stolen a kiss from him.

Arthur's eye widened. No, no, no. This couldn't be possible! He tried to yell, scream, shriek, do anything, but all that came out was muffled sounds.

The same man smirked at him. "Ah, I guess you like the gags. Don't worry; you'll have a lot more fun with those later." Thick black hair man winked and purred at him, which scared the living daylights out of Arthur, but he didn't show it. No, he would never show these men that he was scared. He was the British Empire for Pete's sake! Arthur could rule over these men, make them beg for his mercy, but his fantasy was gone when Arthur hit reality again.

A different man with dark, piercing brown eyes that Arthur could not recognize stepped forward and hit perverted man on the head. "You'll have fun with him later! Come on, we have a job to do!"

"Jeez," grumbled the other, "someone woke up on the wrong side of bed today." 

Dark brown eyes glared. "You know what? You won't be on a bed when you don't get paid from doing your job!"

The two men had a glaring down contest until tall, stocky man said, ". . . Fine, Alex, but you won't have your fun with him later."

Alex, the brown eyed man, rolled his eyes. "I don't care. I'm not perverted like you, dumbass."

Arthur, in his thoughts, decided that he'll dub the perverted man Git (no, he didn't choose dumbass because he, unlike certain people that shall remain nameless, has a limit to how much he swears) and will call Alex by his own name, Alex.

After some more arguing between Alex and Git, Alex decided to stop arguing and turned to directly look Arthur in the eye. Arthur gulped hard.

"You, your name's Arthur, ain't it?" asked Alex. Arthur didn't bother to correct the other man on his incorrect English, because he was gagged and bound up, and because he was sure that he would be beat for acting 'smart.' Quickly, Arthur nodded his head.

"Okay, I'm going to tell you this straight up. It's already been two days and your stupid boyfriend hasn't come with his million dollars. So, just to speed it up a little, we're going to beat you everyday until he comes, m'kay? Yeah, so I just wanted to tell you that." Arthur felt fear inside him, but it was so hard because Alex had just told him so bluntly and straight forwardly that he was going to beat him, and to Arthur, that felt like a horrible crime. If he didn't expect it, then he wouldn't be having butterflies and feeling anxious.

The next move, however, shocked Arthur truly. Arthur felt his head snap back forward from the impact; he could feel the bruise already forming on his eye. The chair almost fell over from the impact of the punch, but still remained seated on the ground.

Alex stepped forward even more and grabbed Arthur roughly by the chin, examining his face. "You know . . . you are kind of hot . . . too bad that your pretty little self will get more damage than your eye." 

Arthur had the urge to spit in Alex's face, but since he couldn't for obvious reasons, he settled for an extremely harsh glare that would make the toughest of men cry for their mommies. Alex just smirked.

"Hey!" said Git. Arthur felt so relieved that Git might be protesting for him that Arthur was reconsidering changing his dubbed name. "Just don't hit him too hard in the face, all right? I still want him to look hot when it's my turn." And Arthur's dream went crashing down as he was punched in the face again.

~ Hetalia! ~

_The Frenchman looked at the love of his life before him. His love had gorgeous, silky hair despite how it looked like it had never heard of a brush in its life, the most exotic, bright green eyes that twinkled when his love was happy, perfect lips, the cutest nose, a nice, slim body, and the absolute, no contest, loveliest smile of all. It was a shame that his love__ never wear it that often. _

"_Francis?" The petit blonde before him asked. Francis looked at the man who stole his heart, nodding his head to show he was listening. "Do you love me?" _

_Francis almost sp__it out the wine he was drinking. "Arthur, of course I love you. What makes you think otherwise?"_

Arthur looked on thoughtfully for a moment before responding, "How much do you love me?" 

"_But Arthur," began Francis, raising an eyebrow, "you did not answer my question before."  
_

_The Englishman looked at Francis almost painfully, that Francis felt guilty about saying that sentence before, so he said, "Arthur, I love you more than the whole universe, even as far as the whole outer space, and more than life itself." _

_But Arthur remained quiet for a long time. ". . . Francis, what would you do if I told you there was another?" _

_Then yet again, Francis almost chokes and almost spits out his wine. "But there isn't another, right? This is an exaggeration, isn't it, Arthur?" Arthur looked away in utter complete seriousness. _

_The blue eyed man slowly lost faith in his words and said weakly, "Arthur . . . please tell me that – that there isn't another. Please, Arthur, please tell me I'm wrong; tell me!"_

_The slightly shorter man looked up at Francis, and with tears threatening to fall out of his eyes, just shook his head, and with that simple head shake, it broke Francis's heart into a thousand pieces and crushed Francis's dreams. _

"_Who?" demanded Francis. He had a taste for vengeance, and it wouldn't be fulfilled until he found out who stole his lover's heart, and, heaven forbid, touched him with their undeserving, filthy hands. _

_Arthur, noticing Francis's sudden turn in anger, said, "No, I can't tell you." _

_Francis growled like an animal, grabbing Arthur by the shoulders and shaking him, said, "Who, damn it? Who?"_

_The man, who was being shaken, pushed Francis away from him with an angry glint in his green eyes; the green eyes that Francis still believes are gorgeous and magnificent. "Stop shaking me, Francis."  
_

"_And why should I?" sneered Francis, shoving Arthur, who fell back into the wall. "You're the whore here who's sleeping with everyone. In fact, you deserve this, you little slut."_

And then Francis felt someone poke him from behind. Francis turned around, preparing to yell at whoever was disturbing him, and shut his mouth closed. 

"_I-Iain, Australia, S-S-Seamus; how are all of you doing?" Francis asked weakly, knowing how bad this situation looked. _

_Australia glared at him so intensely that Francis just stood there, unable to move. "What the hell do you think you're doing to my mum?" _

_Francis opened his mouth then closed it in fear that he would say the wrong thing. "Um. . ." _

"_See 'ere now, I thought we 'ad an agreement, France," said Iain, his face almost as red as his hair. Iain put his hand on Francis's shoulder and proceeded to squeeze the life out of it. Francis whimpered in pain. While Iain continued to squeeze and glare, Australia and Seamus went to Arthur. _

"_Mum!" said Australia, hugging the life out of Arthur and nuzzled his head into Arthur's unsuspecting neck. "Are you okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?"  
_

_Seamus patted Arthur's shoulder, who was too overwhelmed with everything to do anything but shake his head no. _

_As Australia began to lead Arthur out of the room (Australia insisted that Arthur has to hold his hand because the 'bad man' was still in the room), Arthur took a look at Francis and whispered, ". . . Alfred . . ." _

_Francis did not need a supernatural ability to know what Arthur was talking about. He was filled with such anger, regret, and sorrow that he did the first thing his mind decided on, and he – _

Simply woke up.

Francis panted, shaking his head and feeling disturbed. He whipped sweat off of his forehead and had to look around the room just to make sure he still wasn't in his dream – or rather nightmare.

That dream made Francis feel weird on the inside. Of all people, Francis should know that loving Arthur would cause havoc on him because he was taken, had an extremely clingy family, and possibly doesn't return his feelings.

Reliving the dream again, Francis shivered at the part with Seamus, Iain, and Australia. He just remembered Arthur's brothers, and Francis did not, in any way, shape, or form, want to remember them. Especially when he's dreaming about Arthur; he's almost convinced that Arthur's family has some supernatural sense when someone's dreaming of one of them.

Francis lay back down on the floor, letting loose of the dream and Arthur's brothers. Speaking of Arthur . . . Francis looked around frantically, noticing that his crush was not by his side, and roared in anger as he came to the conclusion that they took Arthur.

Gilbert and Antonio heard the desperate roar and headed toward the other Bad Touch friend.

"Hey, you okay, man?" asked Gilbert, settling himself to the right of Francis while Antonio sat to the left of Francis.

"What do you think?" growled Francis. "Do I look fine to you?" 

"No," Antonio said, oblivious to how his friend acted. He looked around. "Where's _Inglaterra_?"

Francis looked like a mix between deflated and uproarious. "They took him."

Gasping obnoxiously loud, Gilbert said, "No way, I can't believe they took him. What do they want with Artie anyway?"

"I don't know." Francis's eyes began to water, thinking of all the ways Arthur could be tortured.

Watching his friend's reaction, Gilbert said, "Don't worry, I don't think they're doing anything bad to Artie. You should stop over reacting."

Francis nodded his head. "Yeah, you're right, but I'm not going to let my guard done." 

Gilbert held up his hands. "I never said anything about that. Well . . . good luck, I'm going back to Ita-chan."

Antonio and Gilbert both left Francis to sulk to himself, both leaving him for Feliciano. Francis almost cursed Feliciano in his head, but he could never do that to his 'little brother.'

Pacing and pacing, Francis just wouldn't stop pacing over the next hour. It didn't matter if it was five minutes or an hour, but Francis would not stop pacing. Francis was filled with such despair, worry, and rage for his crush Arthur that he could not just stop. His eyes were about to leak like a faucet if he didn't see Arthur soon.

But then it seemed that someone up there must've heard his desperate cries for help, because when Arthur was literally thrown onto the floor, Francis almost let his tears spill to see his sweetheart like this. Arthur was a bloody mess, and that was all you could describe Arthur now. Many loud, collective gasps went around the room, and then everything was silent.

Francis rushed over to the Englishman, held him close to his heart, and began to speak words of comfort, "_Mon petit lapin, mon Angleterre, _what have they done to you?"

But Arthur just cuddled into the warmth, and Francis could feel hot tears fall onto himself from Arthur. A slight sob from Arthur indicated Francis that Arthur was trying to hold his tears inside, and Francis was filled with such revenge and anger that he wanted to crush the world with his bare hands.

"_Angleterre . . ._" Francis whispered softly, letting the word linger on his lips. Arthur merely wrapped his hands around the Frenchman's neck and sobbed into his chest loudly, forgetting all the others in the room. At that moment, Francis made a promise in his head; a promise that he would viciously attack, giving no mercy, to the ones who attacked Arthur.

And Francis wasn't planning to forget it any time soon.

~ Hetalia! ~ 

_Aly208: Wow! I think that was my longest chapt__er yet! And an earlier update! Ooh, sorry for Arthur getting hurt and all, but it had to be done. Seriously, the story wouldn't make sense if I didn't do this chapter. Yeah, and it was a bit darker, too. You'll see what happened with Arthur in the next two chapters~ _

_So I'm going to go hide now with my toaster as my guard. I expect you to all form mobs against me now . . . but don't! Everything will all be better at the end. _


	9. Chapter 9

To say that Alfred and Australia weren't getting along was the understatement of the century.

Well, first of all, to get to Ivan's friend they would need several cars to get all the nations that came with them. No big deal, right? But no, no, no, Alfred wouldn't have this. He demanded that _every nation _had to be in the same car. So, here was every nation sitting in the back of a bumpy truck, with no seats, so everyone had to sit on the floor of the truck. But that wasn't just it; Alfred, Australia, Seamus, Patrick, Iain, and Dylan were all sitting around each other. As you can picture it, everything was havoc.

Alfred insisted to lie down, causing Australia and Seamus (the two seated right by him) to get extremely agitated by the consistent movement of feet being pushed on them.

"Oi, enough with the feet already!" shouted Seamus, pushing the smelly things off of him for the last time.

"Yeah!" shouted Australia in agreement. "I've had enough of you, your attitude, and your feet!"

Alfred scowled, but moved his feet away, anyway. "Why do you need to keep bothering me? Just go back to your Koalas and Kangaroos and your Outback! Go put a shrimp on the Barbie or somethin'!"

Australia's eyes bulged out of his head. "Excuse me? You're bothering me, and that is so stereotypical! You don't see me saying that all of you are obnoxious and loud; which you are!"

The whole bus was quiet, Australia and Alfred just having a stare down with each other. Dylan almost interfered, trying to keep the peace, but would rather enjoy keeping his life, thank you, as the two began to wrestle with each other.

The two wrestled each other like it was nobody's business; you couldn't even see the actual two, just a big ball of blurriness.

"We aren't having any problems, _da_?" asked Ivan, his face creepily happy and smiling. Australia and Alfred took one look at Ivan, then immediately went back to their original seating places.

"No, of course not, mate!" said Australia, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, while fake laughing and fake smiling along with Alfred, but both secretly thinking:

_Your ass is mine. _

Iain slightly coughed when everyone was quiet, not because he actually had to, but because he couldn't stand for anything to be quiet for too long. Dylan saw this action and decided to bring up a chat.

"So America . . . how's it . . . going?" asked Dylan. He felt kind of stupid for having asked this, but it was on short notice and besides, what would you ask your brother's boyfriend when your brother was being kidnapped and you were on a mission to rescue him?

Alfred looked down, feeling gloomy and depressed. "What do you think?" he mumbled.

"Jeez, sorry for being polite," responded the Welsh man, but felt bad when Alfred's head hung even lower. "Sorry about that. I'll ask a different question this time. Um . . . uh . . . what's your favorite color?"

Patrick chuckled by him. Dylan, his cheeks red with anger, turned to face his brother. "What do you think you're laughing at, eh? You go try and make small talk with your brother's boyfriend yourself then!" 

A finger poked Dylan in the back, with the mentioned man turning back to face Alfred again. "Hey, Dylan, you don't have to make small talk with me just because you feel you sh –"

"No, no!" interrupted Dylan, shaking his head. "Here, just go and answer the question."

"Okay," Alfred said simply. The blue eyed man thought for a minute, but immediately replied. "I'd say my favorite color has to be . . . green."

Dylan looked a little confused, not believing that the American would actually list green as his favorite color. He honestly thought it would be something along the lines of red, white, and blue, so he asked, "Why?"

Alfred answered back quickly, but sadly, making Dylan feel guilty. "Because green is the color of Arthur's eyes. They're so unique and a pretty shade, too . . ."

"Really?" asked Dylan, his eyes a bit lighter and brighter. Huh, he just noticed that Alfred called Arthur by his actual name. "I never thought you would say something so mature."

Alfred laughed and smiled, but his eyes showed a different story. "I surprise a lot of people, believe me."

"We talkin' about Mum?" asked Australia, joining into the conversation from the one he originally had with Seamus, Patrick, and Iain. 

Dylan watched in fascination as Alfred narrowed his eyes at the Australian. "None of your business," muttered Alfred.

"And by that he means yes." Dylan felt the glare of Alfred turn on him, his glare shouting '_Traitor!' _at him.

"So what were you guys talking about Mum for?" Australia asked uneasily after a few periods of silence. Everyone shifted their gaze at him.

Alfred mumbled something incoherently under his breath, only Dylan understanding what he said, and said man smirked. "Oh, he was just telling me about how beautiful and unique Arthur's eyes are."

There was a brief moment of silence before Patrick started laughing obnoxiously loud, with Iain and Seamus laughing right behind him, but not as loudly.

"Man, you are such a pussy!" shouted Patrick, so loud that Alfred was sure that the whole continent of Asia could hear it.

Iain's laughter – more like a chuckle, actually – dissolved. He turned serious in a matter of a few seconds, and that was scary enough alone. "Well at least he's a girly man rather than a douche." 

"Hey!" shouted Alfred in an offended tone. "I'm not a girly man! If I wanted to I could push Arthur around and order him!"

And in that split second, Alfred realized he said the worst thing – well, the worst thing would really be if he told Arthur's brothers about that time when he almost pressured Arthur, but only Dylan needed to know that, so whatever – and immediately shut his mouth closed. The conversation turned deathly silent, and Alfred was so afraid that he thought he would pee in his pants.

". . . But you wouldn't, right?" Dylan asked, not at all shocked that Alfred would rip his big mouth open, but still sided with him anyway.

"Yeah, yeah!" shouted Alfred. He almost burst with happiness when Dylan sided with him. "Of course I wouldn't! I love Iggy so much; I swear I would never hurt him! I – I'd rather kill myself before I laid a hand on him!" 

Australia's thick eyebrows were up, looking back at the elder Kirklands as if asking, '_Does he do this all the time?' _ They all responded with one nod of their heads', with Dylan and Seamus both rolling their eyes at Alfred's antics.

"Boy, we get it already," replied Iain, face palming himself. Anything just to shut this American up, and Iain would certainly do anything.

"OK, OK, just please, not the face – wait, what?" Alfred stopped his rant, because he imagined there would be this huge brawl that would end up with him going to the Emergency Room. That would've back tracked the plan.

"Ya 'eard me," Iain replied. "Please, just stop ranting already. It's killing me on the inside." Seamus and Patrick agreed silently, nodding their heads.

Alfred looked puzzled, but that only lasted for a second as his face turned into delight and well, just plain joy. "Seriously? Like, I thought we would've fighted, dude!" 

"America, 'fighted' is not a word," corrected Dylan, looking annoyed because his brother must've influenced him (plus that American ruined just right about everything), "it's fought."

But the other just waved a dismissive hand, but secretly he felt his heart tear at the way Dylan corrected his English – or 'American', as Alfred liked to call it. He could already picture Arthur smacking him now – just like Arthur used to. Alfred sighed, thinking how Arthur was pretty much like all of his siblings – if not exactly like them.

The little group was quiet, listening on to all the other conversations on the truck. Alfred heard Feliks try to talk to Raivis and Eduard about pink, but soon Feliks declared it wasn't the same without Toris. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him that had absolutely nothing to do with pink.

"Hey," piped up Alfred, attracting attention from many others aside from Arthur's family, "just when are we going to get with Russia's friend anyway?"

Arthur's brothers just shrugged, looking at Australia, who wasn't much help either. But it was a good thing Alfred's voice was loud because Yao happened to over hear them.

"In a few hours or so, aru," said the ever so helpful Yao, turning slightly to his left to talk to them.

"A few hours!" Alfred exclaimed dramatically with hands over his gaping mouth. "I could _die _by then! What time is it now?"

But to that question Yao had no idea, and turned to Kiku for help. Kiku looked at a small watch on his wrist that you would have had to really look carefully on him to notice it.

"It's about four in the afternoon, Alfred-san," Kiku said, with no emotion whatsoever.

Alfred gasped loudly again and yelled, "But – but that'll take forever to get there! It'll be late and I'll be dead, too! Can we at least stop for hamburgers?"

To which all that heard him (which was everyone, seriously, even the driver heard him) exclaimed, "No!" 

Alfred sulked and pouted, but it seemed that no one really cared or noticed, for that matter. "Come on! Please?"

"Do you want to delay rescuing Arthur or do you just want your hamburgers, you selfish Yankee?" asked Dylan, already knowing the type of response he'll get. Really, it didn't take a Rocket Scientist to figure out Alfred. Just a few minutes and you'll basically know most of him.

And that was when Alfred's eyes widened and shook his head. "NO! I would never ever do that to Iggy! I'm not heartless or cruel!" 

Dylan rolled his eyes along with the rest of his brothers. "Yeah, yeah, we get it." 

Then Alfred turned into a depressing, pouting, sulking state to which no one really cared, again.

~ Hetalia! ~ 

_Aly208: Another chapter! I was planning to get to it earlier, but my friends and I had a 'G20 Meeting' where we all watched Hetalia (the English Dub, I know you're jealous) and we were all nations. We were all the people who we got on our quiz, so I was England and my brother was Germany. My other two friends were Russia and Northern Italy, but my other friend (Japan) didn't make it! I was so sad. But whatever, 'cause we had an awesome time and I feel proud for turning my friends into Hetalia freaks!_

_Until next chapter! _


	10. Chapter 10

Francis held Arthur in his arms, caressing him so, and being gentle as he possibly could. Even though Francis was starving from two days without food, that was nothing compared to the anger and resentment he felt. He felt as if it was his fault that Arthur had got taken; and to add insult to injury, he was originally sleeping right next to Arthur when he was taken.

The Frenchman sighed, watching Arthur's delicate form sleep. He was injured so badly; his eye was black and bruised, his cheeks were red, and there were rope burns around his hands, scratches around his face, bite marks surrounding his collar bone, and a few hickeys on his neck. Those hickeys and bite marks infuriated Francis, and he was pretty sure there was much more injuries than he could see.

At first, every other nation had come around Arthur, itching to see what had happened and what was wrong with him. Feliciano had started to sob when he saw Arthur, and kept mumbling something about not having pasta to give to the poor Brit. Norway had flinched when he saw Arthur, actually expressing emotion as his face expressed some sympathy, while Tino had gasped loudly and turned away in utter shock. Toris had offered Francis to help with Arthur, but Francis could hear Toris mutter angrily to himself about not having the correct supplies to help, calling himself an idiot. Heracles hung back with Roderich, but both went up to Francis to offer him pity and sympathy. Antonio and Gilbert (who had left Feliciano after he stopped sobbing) gave Francis companionship, both giving some affection to Arthur, but that stopped when Antonio had accidently touched Arthur _down there_, and Arthur twitched fearfully in his sleep, muttering the words, "No, no, not again . . ." which caused Francis to yell at them (well, really it was more like yelling while whispering so he wouldn't disturb Arthur), but both ran away.

When Arthur turned and groaned in his sleep again, Francis had held his breath in anticipation if Arthur was actually waking up. But the Briton had just mumbled something, a bit of drool hanging out of his mouth, and went back to blissful sleep. Francis had to admit, Arthur was cute when he was sleeping and looked so peaceful, that he barely noticed that drool out of the corner of his mouth, or the black eye, or anything else that was wrong with Arthur.

The more Francis thought about Arthur, the more he felt of this dread in the pit of his stomach. Gasping, Francis realized something, and thought of something he wanted to forget:

Arthur's family.

Arthur's _crazy, clingy, protective_ family. And that didn't sit to well with Francis. In fact, he kind of secretly hoped that if everyone was coming to rescue them that Arthur's family/brothers were not coming. And the reason why was clearly because:

Everything that happened to Arthur was blamed on Francis.

When Francis meant everything, he really meant _everything. _When Arthur got struck with the awful case of the flu, the elder Kirkland brothers had called him, threatening him if he didn't help Arthur, then they would beat him. Another time, Arthur was gone for a few hours without telling his brothers were he was. Guess who came to his door step, throttling his neck and demanding to know where Arthur was? One time, someone had hit on Arthur while Francis was across the room. Guess who was blamed for not stopping the guy when he touched Arthur? And another time – well, you get the point already.

"Hey, _amigo, _are you okay?" Wow, Antonio must've had balls to come over to Francis considering what happened before. "You look kind of – um – well, pained, kind of like you were sucker punched."

Francis narrowed his eyes, but only a bit and clutched at Arthur even closer. "_Antoine, _do you want something?"

Antonio took a step back, not expecting the harsh tone. "I – I was just asking if you were okay." 

Then Gilbert burst in, putting his arm around Antonio's shoulders. "Come on, Francis! Antonio said sorry already! You know how Antonio is, he's kind of, you know." 

"Yeah!" Antonio agreed, then looked confused and turned back to Gilbert. "Wait a minute –"

"Talk, talk, talk," mocked Gilbert, shutting Antonio's mouth with his hand, and looked at Francis. "So come on, forgive Antonio already! He didn't mean to, you know, do that to Artie!"

Francis's eyes were still narrowed, but soon his features softened up. ". . . Fine, I'll forgive you. I can never stay mad at you guys for too long."

The Bad Touch Trio friends tried to do a group hug – *coughAntoniocough* – but when Arthur stirred during that, they all split fairly quickly and Francis returned to grasping at the sleeping man.

Feeling that Arthur stirring was his own fault, Francis began to stroke the other's hair and he remembered a lullaby that was quite nice. He began to say in a soft tone:

"_Dodo, l'enfant do,  
L'enfant dormira bien vite  
Dodo, l'enfant do  
L'enfant dormira bientôt._

_Une poule blanche  
Est là dans la grange.  
Qui va faire un petit coco  
Pour l'enfant qui va fair' dodo._

_Dodo, l'enfant do,  
L'enfant dormira bien vite  
Dodo, l'enfant do  
L'enfant dormira bientôt._

_Tout le monde est sage  
Dans le voisinage  
Il est l'heure d'aller dormir  
Le sommeil va bientôt venir__." _

Arthur stopped moving fitfully, calmed down, and smiled in his sleep. Francis smiled too, feeling great and happy that he made Arthur smile; even if it was only in his sleep.

"_Je t'aime," _whispered Francis in Arthur's ear, but first had looked behind him, making sure no one heard. He didn't want anyone to tell Alfred of course. No thank you, Francis treasured his life. Arthur smiled wider, if that was possible. He cuddled into Francis's chest (unconsciously, remember) and Francis smiled again, too.

The door slammed open, everyone turning around in fright and shock. The smile slipped off Francis's face as soon as it came. A tall, stocky man with thick black hair entered the room, carrying several various plates. Francis growled, remembering the guard, and clutched Arthur into his chest. The man didn't seem to notice Francis, and set the plates on the ground.

"Here you go, brats," said the man, standing up straight. "Food, for all of you."

No one moved from their spot, frightened of the guard. He noticed this, though, and smirked widely, also noticing Arthur.

"Hey, look it's Sweet Lips," he teased, pointing at Arthur and specifically talking to Francis. Francis growled even louder. "Aw, poor little Sweet Lips. All tired and sore from what I put him through. I hope to have another round with Sweet Lips; I enjoyed it. I haven't had action with anyone in a long time. My favorite part was when he was thrashing and moaning under me."

Francis's eye twitched violently. He carefully laid Arthur down by Toris, got up, and he threw himself at the guard. The guard was caught unprepared and almost tripped and fell over the precious, small amounts of food. He fell, actually, with Francis on top of him, throwing his fists at any visible part of the man.

"Bastard!" Francis snarled, then leaned in closer to the man and whispered, "If I found out what I think you did to him, I'm going to track you down and bring you to hell. And that's just me; imagine if Alfred or Arthur's brothers find out. Their little baby brother or lover attacked and, well, you know the other thing. They'll kill you and feed you to the dogs."

The guard nodded fearfully, which was surprising to everyone kidnapped. Francis got off the guard and yelled, "Now get the hell out of here!"

As quick as lightning, the man ran out of the room, yet again almost knocking over the food.

The other nations clapped, a few whistling in appreciation. Then, they all ran to the bowls of food and took their share. Francis ignored the pain in his stomach, aching for the food, and returned to Arthur instead.

"Hey," Toris said softly, bringing a few bowls of food with him, "I brought you two some food."

Francis looked over the food. It was oatmeal (or at least Francis thought it looked like oatmeal), and it was cold and lumpy.

"Thanks, Lithuania." Francis's nose wrinkled in distaste. Being used to high class food, and then being reduced to this, was certainly not something that Francis wanted to eat.

"No problem," replied the Lithuanian. It was silent for a few minutes with Francis stroking Arthur's hair and Toris just eating his oatmeal – or was it oatmeal?

Then Toris stopped eating, and said, "That was kind of you to do that, France."

The Frenchman looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

Toris smiled lightly. "I mean when you were defending England. That was really sweet of you to do that. I'm sure Alfred would've appreciated that."

Francis deflated, and looked depressed at the mention at the name of his crush's lover. "Yeah."

Arthur stirred in his sleep, moving fitfully and eyelids fluttering. Both men watched the sight, and Toris decided to go off, in case Arthur wakes up so Francis could talk to him.

Watching Arthur a bit more, Francis was struck by an idea. He looked at Arthur's and his half full bowls of oatmeal (?) and started to pour some of the bowl into the other bowl. He didn't have enough time to pour all of it in because Arthur yawned and looked like he was about to wake up, so Francis quickly put the bowl down.

"Arthur." Francis smiled, watching the green eyed Brit wake up and look around him, his eyes red and puffy from the crying. Arthur looked up at him in surprise.

"F-Francis?" questioned Arthur in obvious confusion. "I-I had the worst nightmare. I was t-t-taken by some men and then –"

"Arthur," Francis interrupted, looking quite grim that Arthur was taken aback, "that's not a nightmare; it's real."

Arthur gasped, taking a good look around the room, spying every nation and thing. "I remember now."

Francis studied the other's reaction and thought he was going to start crying again. And just because Francis's heart broke every time Arthur started to cry, he decided to distract him. "Look Arthur, they brought us some food." He pushed the bowl with more food to Arthur.

But all Arthur did was stare skeptically at the food, as if testing it to see if it was poisoned. "How come my bowl has more food than yours?"

This didn't catch Francis off guard because he had thought up of an excuse already, just in case. "Oh, I started to eat before you woke up. Here, start eating. You're probably starving."

Seeming to have bought that, Arthur took the spoon and put some in his mouth. Arthur didn't make a face as he swallowed, and looked at Francis expectantly. "Well? Aren't you going to eat?"

"Oh, right." Francis took the spoon to his bowl and took a small bit. He cringed when the bland, cold flavor touched his tongue. Then as he began to chew, Francis realized the taste was salty and not sweet, so he concluded that this was grits and not oatmeal.

They ate quietly for awhile, but Arthur started to cry a bit as he chewed a piece of grits.

Francis looked at him in concern. "_Mon petit lapin, _what's wrong?"

Arthur wiped his eyes, turning away, and said, "What are you talking about, frog? I'm perfectly fine."

"Oh, _mon Angleterre,_" said Francis in that 'oh not again voice.' "Come here."

Arthur protested, even flinching and cowering, as Francis brought his arms around him and tried to put him on his lap. Francis stopped, staring worriedly. "Now tell big brother France what's wrong."

Arthur flinched at the words 'big brother.' "Nothing is wrong, you tosser."

"That's a load of bull," Francis responded. Arthur threw Francis a glare, with Francis cowering. Hey, Arthur gave scary glares.

"Please, _Angleterre_?" pleaded Francis, pouting and giving him puppy dog eyes. Arthur scoffed and turned away.

Sighing, Francis tried another reproach. "Arthur, if you don't tell me what is wrong, then how are you going to get help?"

Arthur thought, his lips were parted and his eyes started to water again. "F-Francis." That was the only thing he said before tears started to leak out of his eyes.

Francis tried to put Arthur in his arms again, to comfort the distressed Briton, but that did the opposite effect. Arthur began to cower, flinch, and turn away from physical contact. And that worried Francis. A lot.

"Arthur . . ." Francis sighed. "Why won't you let me touch you? What's wrong?"

Arthur's shoulders stared to shake, along with the rest of his body, his breathing was uneven, and his eyes were even more red and puffy, but he managed to say in a voice that was clear as daylight to Francis:

"F-F-Francis, h-he t-t-took my v-virginity."

~ Hetalia! ~

_I. AM. EVIL! I feel absolutely horrible to having to do that to poor Arthur! But I had to do it; another major thing that I had to do. Oh, and before I forget, that lullaby that Francis sang is called _**_Dodo, l'enfant do _****_(translated into English as _****_Sleepy Time, the Young One Sleeps_****_). So remember, don't come into larger mobs to destroy me! _**

**_Thank you all and review! _**


	11. Chapter 11

_Aly208: OH. EM. GEE! ALL OF YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I LOVE ALL OF YOU! (Don't worry; I'm not going to become like Spain or stalk any of you). JFDKSJFLDS. Seriously, that's all I could say when I found all the reviews I got for Chapter 10. I appreciate every single person who bothers to click on this fic, and especially to all of you who are still reading this. And to everyone who reviewed about Chapter 10, I was so surprised and happy that I actually started laughing crazily. My brother even went up to me and asked if I was having a spasm. I hope all of you enjoy this chapter and thank you so much! _

_*__Important note: I have stopped using Scotland's (Iain's) accent and decided to use correct grammar. Why? Because I sucked at it. . _

~ Hetalia! ~

While Alfred was waiting (im)patiently, he felt a foreboding feeling in the pit of his stomach.

No, it did most definitely feel good. He felt as if something awful just happened to Arthur and he was to blame. Apparently, the Kirkland brothers also must've felt this way because they didn't look too hot either.

"Um . . . guys?" asked Patrick, uncharacteristically unsure. The others looked at him, while a few (only Alfred) looked at him as if he was crazy. "I have this feeling that something happened. Something bad that happened to Arthur." 

Alfred's eyes bulged. "Like, no way, dude! I was totally thinking the same thing."

Seamus, Iain, and Dylan all shared a look together, as if they knew something no one else knew.

"This is not good," muttered Seamus under his breath. Just by the sound of his voice you could obviously tell he wanted to pace around, but for the fact that he was in an unstable truck, he didn't dare do it.

"Huh?" asked Alfred, that confused look that he wore way too often was on again. "What are you guys talking about?"

Australia nodded, agreeing with Alfred for once. "Yeah, I have no idea what you guys are talking about either."

But the only thing Iain did was mumbled something incoherent quietly, basically for his ears only. Dylan sighed.

"Well, since both of you don't know, I should probably tell you," began Dylan hesitantly, waiting if his elder brothers were going to stop him. He continued when he was sure that they didn't object. "When Patrick has a feeling like that, that something bad is going to happen or something already happened, then he's usually right. That's how we knew how to call you, America, to ask where Arthur was."

"That's–" Australia began, but was soon interrupted by a specific loud American.

"–Creepy," finished Alfred for Australia. Australia frowned at Alfred, but it went unnoticed. Then, a light went off into Alfred's dim head.

"OMG! IGGY'S GOING TO GET HURT?" he yelled, shocking the entire truck load of nations. The driver was yelling to shut up, but like Australia's frown, it went unnoticed.

Dylan grimaced at the loud tone. "Yes, or at least that's what Patrick says."

"But then again he could be wrong," shot back Iain, cheeks tinted with a bit of red. "He's been wrong before; he could be wrong now."

Patrick looked at Iain blandly and said sarcastically, "Thanks for believing in me."

Iain was about to open his mouth to argue, but Seamus beat him to it. "We need to keep all options a consideration! Arthur could be hurt, but then again he might not be. So don't argue!"

Both Iain and Patrick took a glance at each other, and then looked away, as if agreeing with what Seamus had said.

Alfred's heart was racing, his face was pale, and he was lively, crazy, and panicked. "Wait! So Iggy might be hurt? WHY AIN'T WE ALL PANICKING?"

Dylan glared at Alfred without any indication of shyness. Alfred cowered.

_Dang, even Dylan's glares are like Iggy's, _thought Alfred, _but it's not the same. I miss Iggy. _

"'Ain't' is not a word," corrected Dylan, still holding the glare in place. "It's aren't."

Alfred felt like sobbing, not because of Dylan's glare, but because of Arthur's siblings. They were too much like Arthur! Alfred needed to get away from them.

"Oh, and to your previous questions, Iain had already answered it before," replied Seamus, as observant as ever. "Remember, Patrick could be wrong."

The fact that Patrick could be wrong didn't enter Alfred's head. He was still panicked and lively as ever, by playing all the scenarios through his head. Alfred went into shock, even more so, as he remembered something that Dylan had told him previously before they had got into the truck.

_Oh my gosh, _thought Alfred some more. _What if what Dylan said before is true? What if Iggy's . . . What if Iggy's – oh I can't even say the 'r word!'" _

" –rica?" Alfred's train of thought was disrupted. He looked at who was talking, which happened to be Dylan. Dylan looked slightly worried, but then again, it wasn't that worried.

"Y-yeah?" asked Alfred unsteadily, trying to look like he was paying attention, but gave up that idea soon after. "What d-d-did you say again?" 

Dylan shot another worried glance, but it was gone as soon as it came. "Are you okay America? You don't look so good." The others nodded along with Dylan, a few that weren't even in the original conversation.

Before Alfred could answer, Yao, still holding the wok in his hand, yelled loudly, "We're here aru!"

Alfred sighed in relieve for more than one reason. Had a few hours really gone by that quickly?

Turning to Kiku, Alfred asked, "Hey Kiku, do you know what time it is?"

Kiku didn't even bat an eyelash and without looking at his watch he said, "It's 7:00 at night, Alfred-san." 

Alfred went a bit – okay, it wasn't just a bit; it was full out – crazy inside. "NO WAY WE WERE ON FOR THREE HOURS!"

Other nations looked at Alfred, a few shushing him and most yelling, 'Shut up!' Wow, nations were so delightful, weren't they?

For some reason not even related to the above, Alfred had another strange thought. He decided to voice it out loud, since it was a bit of a complaint, and said to Ivan. "Wait a minute . . . Russia, why do you have some of your 'friends' here in my country?"

Ivan smiled, not a kind one, but the creepy one that says 'I'm innocent.' "Oh, _Amerika, _I have all of my 'friends' in every single country! That way I always have spies!"

The truck turned eerily quite, but Alfred burst. "You creepy comm–"

Clamping a hand over Alfred's mouth, Dylan said into Alfred's ear, "Russia's friends are helping us right now. Don't upset him!"

After Dylan removed his hand away, Alfred looked sheepish. Alfred didn't say anything back to Ivan, so Ivan turned away with that smile plastered on his face still.

The nations all piled out of the truck. Man, they went out like there was no tomorrow. They were all stomping out, running as well, and quite a few nations were trampled on during the stampede. It wasn't pretty.

Patrick let out a large sight when he was out, along with everyone else. "How did we make it out _alive_?" he asked.

Seamus straightened his back (since he originally had put his hands on his knees and was panting like crazy) and replied, "I have no idea, but I think it's a miracle."

Many nations nodded along to what Seamus had said, but not a certain American. He just smiled a cocky grin, and put an arm around Seamus's shoulders (which was very bold of him). "You guys must be out of shape! Try working out some more; it wasn't such a big deal!"

Brushing Alfred's arm off of his shoulders, Seamus merely ignored the other's comments and headed off into a very small, black shack that Alfred had not noticed before.

Alfred tried to get into the front of the crowd of nations, but Ivan was leading them in, so Alfred stayed back further. No way was Alfred going to blow this, he had to remain calm and be quiet. Be calm . . . and remain quiet. That couldn't be that hard, right?

But that proved to be hard to the obnoxious and loud nation like Alfred when he couldn't even see anything through the crowd, but he certainly heard Russian. He so desperately wanted to yell out and ask what they were saying, but then the Kirkland brothers and Australia were next to him, so he shut his mouth.

He waited patiently for ten minutes, hearing the entire conversation between Ivan and a few others, but couldn't understand a single thing. That pissed off Alfred. A lot.

But just as he was going to burst, Ivan yelled out in his heavy Russian accent, "We got the supplies!" 

Every nation cheered excitedly and in happiness. No, seriously, _every_ nation shouted. It sounded like New Year's Day in New York when they just let the giant glass ball fall. It was very, very, very, loud.

Ivan's voice over powered the noise, which had to be extremely loud, "COME UP FRONT TO GET YOUR WEAPON – I MEAN SUPPLIES!"

Since everyone was about to rush up and grab a 'supply,' Ludwig intervened and said very loudly, "IN A SINGLE AND ORDERLY FASHIONED LINE!"

The crowd was very displeased you could say. But they all listened to the scary German who could beat them and went into a single filed line, with Alfred almost being the very last.

Alfred pouted, wanting to just badly skip everyone, but he didn't because that would be 'unhero-like.'

So Alfred waited patiently again until it was his turn. It took five minutes, which wasn't that long, really, but to Alfred it was like an hour because they could be on their way rescuing Arthur and all the others. He ended up getting a regular pistol, but he wanted something much bigger.

When Alfred had went into the truck, he found out what the Kirkland brothers and Australia had got. Most had gotten guns, just like Alfred, but a few (ahem, only Iain) brought their own supply of weapon – oops, I mean 'supplies.'

Eyes were bulged when Alfred saw what Iain had exactly brought in.

"I-is that a crossbow?" asked Alfred in utter surprise and shock.

Iain only scoffed, as if it was normal to bring in a bow and arrow to beat down the people who took your little brother. "Of course it is. What did you think it was?"

"A-and is that s-s-shotgun?" Alfred asked again, terrified out of his wits because those two weren't the only things that Iain had brought with him.

Yet again, Iain scoffed. "And what's it to you?" Then Iain smirked deviously. "I thought I saw Russia with an AK-47."

Anger and justice shot through Alfred's veins. "What? No way! That's illegal! When I get a hold of that comm–!"

Dylan clamped a hand on Alfred's mouth again. "Iain, shut up! America, Iain's probably just messing around with you." Only when Alfred calmed down Dylan had let go of his hand off Alfred's mouth.

Alfred was about to yell at Iain, but he stopped right when his mouth was open, his face totally drained and white, and saw all the different types of weapons again (Alfred swears he saw a Machete). Iain smirked even wider.

Then Alfred sat back down slowly, and began to think: _Mental Note – NEVER EVER get on Iain's bad side._

~ Hetalia! ~

_*Another note – I would've posted this chapter earlier, but for Christmas I got a brand new laptop (REALLY AWESOME ONE) and my dad spent all yesterday and most of today to transfer everything to this new laptop. But now everything's alright!  
_

_Merry belated Christmas everyone! _


	12. Chapter 12

And then Francis was off.

Red blurred his vision, his fists were clenched, his left eye was twitching violently, rage filled his insides, and his hands were begging for a certain face to be placed in front of him so he could scratch that certain man's eyes out.

By now tears were leaking out of Arthur's eyes. He knew he shouldn't have told Francis this, it just made everything worse. Oh, and that horrible memory . . . Arthur was trying to conceal his sobs and hiccups from reliving it again. And what will Alfred think of him now, probably call him a slut and break up with him. His brothers . . . Arthur couldn't stop himself as he let out a few hiccups and sobs. As much as Arthur wanted to deny it, he missed his brothers. Oh, and he missed Alfred a lot, too. They'll all be disgusted with him. It didn't help that he was a virgin when _it _happened.

_Oh my God, _thought Arthur, _Alfred didn't even know I was a virgin. Only my brothers knew. Wait a minute, Francis didn't even know that either. So when I told him this right now, that means. . . _

"Francis you didn't even know did you?" asked Arthur, tears rolling down his face. He watched Francis, with the latter looking like he was in a far off place and seemed to be having malice in his eyes. Francis heard the question, took one look at Arthur, and literally threw himself at Arthur, smothering Arthur's head into his chest.

"_Mon petit lapin, Angleterre, _England, Arthur," soothed Francis, calling Arthur all kinds of names (good names). "You'll be alright, don't worry, you'll be okay." But it sounded like Francis was trying to calm himself down rather than Arthur.

Arthur flinched at the contact of the touch of another human (or rather nation). He sucked it up, though, only letting a few tears fall onto Francis, but he pushed Francis off soon.

"A-answer my question," Arthur said unsteadily, crossing his arms over his chest. Francis blinked when he realized that he was not hugging his crush, instead pushed off onto the hard ground.

Francis looked at Arthur in confusion, an eyebrow raised as well. "_Mon petit lapin, _I have no idea what you are talking about."

Taking in a deep breath, Arthur repeated the same question from before. It was too bad that Francis looked even more confused than ever.

"I'm sorry, _mon Angleterre; _I don't know what you mean." Francis offered a sorry look to Arthur, because frankly, Arthur looked like he was losing his patience. Eh, Arthur was never one with tons of patience anyway.

Then Arthur's expression turned into one of depression and sadness as he understood that he had to explain again. "I mean that when I was r-r-r – when _it _happened, he - he t-took my v-v-v-virginity. You n-never knew t-that I was a v-v-virgin, did you?" A tear rolled down Arthur's face when he finished.

Francis's face turned red with anger, but it softened when he saw the silent tear travel its way down Arthur's tear-stained, flushed face.

"Oh, Arthur," cooed Francis, reaching out for the overwhelmed Briton, "come here."

But Arthur didn't budge from his spot, giving Francis a hard look and slapped Francis's hands away when Francis tried to wrap them around him.

"Answer my question," said stubborn Arthur, crossing his hands over his chest once more.

Since Arthur won't move from his spot and since Francis remembered the question, Francis's face got all red and angry. When he got his hands on that guard . . . or better yet, if Alfred and the Kirkland brothers find out. . .

Arthur cleared his throat, obviously waiting for Francis to answer the question. To tell the truth, Francis was so shocked that Arthur was r-r, when it happened – he couldn't even bring himself to be around that word, let alone Arthur in the same sentence! – that he didn't pay attention to the fact that Arthur said anything about his virginity. Until Arthur mentioned it, he never noticed.

"Okay, okay," Francis finally complied, "Arthur, I never knew. And it rips my heart apart to know that this happened to you, especially with someone who has kidnapped you. But with you being 'holy' and all, I just want to rip that guard's head off like what happened to by heart. But don't worry, you can pretend this never ever happened and go along like you were normally. Besides, when we get out of here, you'll have a lot of people beating that idiot up." 

Arthur's eyes were brimming with tears again and a few slipped out. He looked down and Francis assumed that he was sobbing, because Arthur was making a noise similar like it.

"Hey, hey, _petit lapin, _I didn't mean for you to cry. Come on, I'm really, really sorry," apologized Francis, wanting to just wrap his arms around Arthur, but didn't dare to.

The sobbing Arthur was making got even louder and then Arthur lifted his head to show his eyes still filled with tears, but with a great, big smile on his face. Francis almost kicked himself for thinking that Arthur was sobbing, but he was actually _laughing. Real, actual laughter_ that Francis was overjoyed to hear, since this was the first time he saw Arthur smile, let alone laugh, from the moment they got here.

Still overcome with tears, Arthur put his hand into Francis's hand and told him in a quiet voice, "You silly frog, you git, how could you ever think I was sobbing? You make me laugh, honestly, you say sorry too much." Then as soon as Arthur was finished talking, he dropped his hands away from Francis.

Francis smiled: a real smile absolutely full of warmth. He smiled because Arthur was smiling, because Arthur bothered to touch him. That simple touch told Francis that Arthur trusted him and wouldn't think otherwise. That touch showed him that Arthur could depend on him. That touch told him that even through the toughest times, everything could get better. That touch was a miracle to him; that Arthur touched him, even if it was a short time, that despite what had happened to Arthur, Francis got to see the first step of recovery. That simple, simple touch that anyone could do was something special that Francis would always remember and treasure.

And then, just because the world hated him, Antonio and Gilbert came over. Now, this wasn't a bad thing – well, usually it wasn't – and Francis had no problem with it. There were just two giant problems:

Problem Number One (or Uno to be more appropriate) Antonio put his arm around Arthur's shoulders.

Problem Number Two (or rather Zwei, just in memory of one of Francis's 'best friends' when this was over) Gilbert put his arm around Arthur's waist.

"Artie, you're up! How are you? Man, they didn't hurt you too bad right? That's one ugly shiner on your eye," said Gilbert, still blunt as ever and rude. Oh poor Gilbert and Antonio, they had no idea that death was around the corner.

Arthur didn't take too well to the touch. That was the least unexaggerated you could say, and also the one that lies the most. The real truth was that Arthur was spazzing and freaking out; he pushed both sets of hands away from him (in a crazy manner) and hid behind Francis's back, clutching onto the bottom of Francis's shirt.

Boy, the look on Francis's face when that happened could've made the toughest man on Earth – no, scratch that, the strongest thing in the universe – soil and wet his pants.

Arthur was whimpering behind Francis, and that just made the latter even more furious at his 'good friends.'

"Whoa, whoa, Francis, are you okay? You look really angry . . . like you're going to kill someone." Oblivious Antonio caught up to speed as to what was happening and he was _terrified._ Gilbert too, although he noticed the moment Arthur hid behind Francis, but he at least attempted not to let Francis murder them.

"Francis! Hey, good buddy, you aren't going to kill us, are you? I mean we're your bestest friends forever! We're BFFs, Francis, BFFs! There's no need to get rid of the awesome me here, maybe Antonio, but not the awesome me! So what do you say, buddy, friends?"

Francis looked at the other man behind him, and then turned back to Gilbert and Antonio with a look of fury in his eyes. "Does this _look_ normal to you?"

Both Antonio and Gilbert craned their necks around Francis to see the shivering, terrified Arthur. Arthur had a crazy look in his eye and he was hiccupping as well, as he was holding his knees to his chest and rocking back in forth. To see Arthur like this, the almighty, powerful, pirate Arthur Kirkland that would make men shiver by the sound of his name, degraded to acting like a little baby, was really one of the most frightening moments in both Gilbert and Antonio's lives.

"W-what happened to him?" Antonio had asked as soon as Arthur had noticed them, then squealed and cowered behind Francis, to which Francis covered most of Arthur pretty well; you couldn't even see him if you were looking right at the front side of Francis.

Francis glared at both of them, and then turned his back to Gilbert and Antonio to talk to Arthur, who went to Toris when Francis was done speaking. After that, Francis was facing the Spaniard and Prussian and huddled them together into a small circle group.

"You really want to know what happened to Arthur?" asked Francis, whispering in a very, very quiet tone in a very, very depressing sound. Antonio and Gilbert nodded eagerly and fast, wanting to know badly as to what went wrong with Arthur.

"Okay, but you can't tell _anyone,_" emphasized Francis, looking at the two. Both nodded their heads quickly and furiously.

Taking a deep breath before talking, Francis began. "When Arthur was taken by the guard, you saw all the damages and bruises on him, right? Well that's not all that guard did, he did the most awful thing anyone could do in this world: he r-r-raped Arthur." Francis didn't need to tell them that Arthur was a virgin when it happened; he didn't need to tell them at all. That would be a violation of Arthur's privacy. 

The two bad touch trio friends gasped out loud, both in surprise, shock, and anger.

"No way in hell!" shouted Gilbert loudly, attracting the attention of the other kidnapped nations. "I'm going to kick his fat ass!" Antonio nodded along with Gilbert, both frowning.

Francis shushed them, though, before they could form a gang to destroy the guard, and whispered, "SHH! Are you crazy? If anyone else hears I'll knock both of you out so bad you won't remember your names!"

"But you can't let him get away with it!" whispered Antonio furiously right back at the Frenchman.

"Of course I won't! I'll save that for later when I actually get to beat that bastard down!" argued Francis, winning over both Gilbert and Antonio.

"I agree with your idea," stated Gilbert, whose frown turned into a malicious smirk, "but only if we get to kick some guard ass!"

Francis would have answered, if not for a full out, terrified for your life scream. The bad thing was that Francis recognized that was Arthur's scream. The even worse part was that that _guard_ was here. Before Francis could even leap to Arthur's defense, the guard pulled on Arthur's hand, trying to yank him out of there. Arthur screamed even louder, which was such an unArthur-like thing to do, but then Francis remembered that Arthur wasn't in his right mind right now. Toris was pulling on Arthur's other arm, trying not to be too rough, but that was a pretty hard grip Toris had on Arthur.

The other nations, shocked by this, rushed to Arthur's defense, trying to pull him away from the guard. By now Arthur was screaming bloody murder, since being pulled in both directions felt like you were going to be ripped apart. It all ended when Toris, who had to stop pulling Arthur's hand to do this, punched the guard right in the nose, in effect making the guard let go of Arthur to hold his nose instead.

At the moment when the guard let go, Francis rushed to Arthur and brought him into his safe, warm arms, hiding Arthur's head into his chest. He glared at the guard and Gilbert and Antonio were right behind him, both cracking their knuckles loudly. But they couldn't reach the guard in time before he grabbed Toris's hand and took him out of the room.

"NO!" yelled Francis, but immediately softened his voice when Arthur was startled by it.

"That guard took Toris just because he had tried protecting Arthur! That's unfair!" said Antonio, angry because another nation was taken right under their noses.

Francis sat back on the ground, holding Arthur in his arms. There was no way he would ever, ever give that guard back Arthur to him. Arthur was too precious and he absolutely could not be hurt again. If Arthur was forced into having _it _again, then Francis would blow up into an explosion.

But as he stroked the startled and frightened Arthur's hair, Francis began to become saddened by the other's appearance. Arthur's eyes were wide and alert with a crazy look in them, his hair was tangled, he was bruised up, and his clothes were torn up. Arthur looked like he was insane, though he is delirious right now, but Francis had no idea how to turn him back into his normal self. Maybe if they slept on it, it would work. And by they, Francis meant Arthur, because no way were they going to sleep at the same time. What if they took Arthur again? No way was Francis going to risk it.

Maybe this was a little selfish to think, but Francis was glad that Toris was taken. Well, not exactly glad, just a little happy that Toris was taken rather than Arthur. Inside him, Francis felt guilty for feeling happy, since Toris always helped him with Arthur and was nice and kind, but hey, rather Toris taken than Arthur. At least in his world he would prefer it.

Francis took another look at Arthur. "_Mon amour, _you should sleep right now. It would be good for you."

Arthur shook his head in a childish way, still delirious. Francis was still pissed and angry with Gilbert and Antonio, for managing to screw Arthur up like this (_To self – do not use the word 'screw' and 'Arthur' in the same sentence, _thought Francis).

"Come on Arthur, you'll make me happy," begged Francis, but that didn't work either against Arthur. "Please?"

Then Arthur had a thoughtful look on his face and said in a very childish voice, mispronouncing every R with a W. "Okay, but only if you tell me a story." 

Since Francis saw this as the only way to win, he said, "Fine, but here, come sit on my lap." Arthur was originally smothered against Francis, but he had been frightened by the touching that he ended up lying next to Francis with the Frenchman stroking his hair. Arthur objected to that, but Francis didn't push it.

Francis decided to tell a Fairy Tale, because it seemed like something Arthur would enjoy, what with all that unicorn nonsense. "Here goes:

"Once upon a time there was a prince who wanted to marry a real princess, not just those fake ones who claimed to be princesses. He went all around the world to find a princess, but he would never get one. Sure, there were a lot of princesses, but he had no idea whether to believe if they were a real one. Every single one had something about them that was wrong. So he went home and was really sad because he wanted a real princess badly.

"On one night a horrible thunder storm came, and the rain poured down on everything. Then, a knock was heard at the city gate, and the old king got up to see who it could be.

"Right at the front of the gate there was a princess! You should have seen her how she looked like with all the rain and wind. The rain was everywhere on her, drenching her completely in water. But she said that she was a real princess.

"'Well, we'll soon find that out,' the old queen thought. Even though she had said nothing, she still went into the bed room, taking out all the bedding off the bedstead and laid a pea at the bottom. After that she took twenty mattresses and put them on top of the pea, and then twenty eider down beds on top of the mattresses.

"The princess had to lie on this all night. When she got up in the morning, she was asked how she had slept.

"'Oh, vey badly!' said the princess. 'I barely closed my eyes all night. Heaven only knows what was in that bed, but there was something so hard that I'm bruised all over my body. It's awful!'

"Now they all knew that she was a real princess, since she had felt the pea right through twenty mattresses and twenty eider down beds.

"Only a real princess could be that sensitive.

"Then the prince married her, since he knew that she was a real princess; and that pea was taken into a museum, where it may be seen, as if no one has stolen it.

"Now that is a true story." Francis looked down at Arthur only to see that he was fast asleep with his head on his shoulder.

_Hopefully Arthur will be normal by the time he's done sleeping, _thought Francis. _This Arthur is a handful to care for. _

~ Hetalia! ~

_HAPPY NEW YEAR! And have many wishes, to all of you! Oh, and yes, that story that Francis told Arthur is __**The Princess and the Pea. **_

_See you all for another update next year! _

_~Aly208_


	13. Chapter 13

Elizaveta sat down in her secluded little office on her black leather chair. She sighed, putting her hands on her face. Tears were forming in her eyes, but she wiped them off.

As she sat more, staring at the brown desk in front of her, she thought, and the more she thought, the more depressed she got.

_Roderich most hate me, _thought the Hungarian, _he wouldn't even say I love you back to me. Oh, and my poor Ita-chan, and all the other nations. They must hate me too. _

That man, the one who had tricked Elizaveta, was all to blame for this. Elizaveta blamed herself, wishing she wasn't as gullible as to being tricked so easily. But dang it, she was so desperate about her yaoi fill. She was months, months, behind her yaoi, and she was so stressed out, and when someone comes to offer you help, you just take it, and believe every word of what they say.

And if that wasn't bad enough, Elizaveta saw what those men did to Feliciano. She heard what that perverted guard, Brian she was sure that was his name, did to Arthur. She heard that Brian took Toris as well. When she heard about Arthur at first, she had cried and sobbed and began to shout at the door, because she knew that this was all her fault. She knew that Brian had a sick obsession with Arthur. She just wished that she could have told Arthur before.

Images began to hunt her about Arthur, and Elizaveta knew she was going insane. And the only thing helping her not go totally insane was that she knew Toris wouldn't be as tortured as Arthur. That Brian, she hated his guts and his stupid obsession with Arthur. If she didn't get out of here soon, she would lose it. She glared at the door wishing that it would open. They locked the door so only they could open it. That infuriated her. A lot.

Elizaveta had confronted the man behind all of this; William was his name, about Arthur. That horrible, horrible man. Elizaveta still remembers that sadistic laugh, and the haunting words that he said that still make her shiver every time she recalls the memory; _"I thought you wanted yaoi."  
_

All that Elizaveta wanted now was to have never have met William. Or at least to be able to get out of here.

Although Elizaveta keeps wishing and wishing, and not really thinking anymore, she keeps having that nagging part of her mind talking to her. And that annoying, irritating, nagging part keeps telling her, _"Why were you so gullible? You should have listened to me when something felt wrong. Besides, how would William have known about the nations? Now look at what you've done, all the other nations will be mad at you and hate you forever. Look at Arthur, Feliciano, Toris, Roderich, and all the other nations that were kidnapped and tortured; they'll hate you for now and forever." _

Wiping away the tears from her eyes, Elizaveta let a few tears by accident fall down her face. All of the families, lovers, and friends of the kidnapped nations will for sure hate her. Well, they'll hate her until she makes up for it. But that'll be almost impossible.

Elizaveta took a glance at the door, hating it even more. Why? Why did she have to be so gullible, naïve, and stupid? Her life will be in ruins now, and it'll all be her fault. Every single last one of it will be her fault.

And the only good thing about all of this (which was barely a good thing, anyway) was that she had her beloved, trusty frying pan that had beaten up so many nations, like Gilbert and Francis. She still sees the fear in Gilbert's eyes every time he sees that pan. It was a shame that Gilbert won't like her anymore, well at least anymore than he originally did. Elizaveta considered each other as friends, even though she keeps banging Gilbert's head on that pan.

Standing up from her spot on the chair, Elizaveta walked around the room. More like pacing actually, because she kept trying to come up with a plan to get her out of this horrid room.

But the more she thought, the more she discovered how hard it is to come up with a plan.

~ Hetalia! ~

Francis looked down at the sleeping Brit whose head was lying down on Francis's lap. Both of Francis's eyes felt heavy and tired, since for the past few hours he was just watching Arthur sleep. No, Francis wouldn't dare fall asleep at the same time as Arthur. If they took him again, then Francis would have to kill himself, because he wouldn't be able to handle the guilt.

Arthur stirred in his sleep. Some drool was hanging out of the corner of his mouth, so Francis wiped it off with his own hand, despite how gross that it is.

"Francis?" a gentle voice asked from the other side of Francis. Without having to look, the blue-eyed man knew that Tino was talking to him.

"Yes, Tino?" Francis asked politely, turning to look at Tino. What? He couldn't be polite to someone?

Tino averted his gaze at the ground, his cheeks flushed with red. "I was just wondering – what really happened to Arthur?"

Francis immediately became rigid and froze in his spot. "Nothing," he said too quickly for his taste. Realizing that this made no sense, he instead said, "I mean aside from his usual bruises and marks."

Nodding slowly, Tino looked up from the ground to watch Arthur sleep in peace. It stayed silently like that for a few minutes. Francis thought it was uncharacteristically for Tino not to be talking so much, but then Tino said, "Tell Arthur I'm sorry for him."

"Arthur doesn't need your pity," snapped Francis before he could stop himself. Tino didn't look at all offended, just a little startled at what Francis said.

After some more uneasy silence followed after that, Francis apologized, feeling bad for what he said. "I'm sorry, Tino, I didn't mean what I said."

Tino dismissed the apology with his hand. "No, that's all right. Arthur doesn't need my pity right now, he needs some help."

Francis nodded as to what Tino had said. Looking down at Arthur, Francis saw that Arthur really needed some help. His sweet Arthur . . . he hadn't deserved this in his life: not at all.

"Alfred's such a nice boy," said Tino absentmindedly, drawing imaginary things with his finger on the ground. Francis looked up at the Finnish man in confusion.

"I mean Alfred will be heart broken by what happened to Arthur," continued Tino, drawing the imaginary figures into the ground still. Francis wondered why Norway wasn't keeping Tino any company now. It was unnerving for Francis to keep listening to Tino try to keep talking, but to listen to him chat about Alfred and Arthur? No, no, no, Francis was most definitely not a happy camper. Besides, the other blonde was getting a bit creepy now.

"Hey, um, Tino?" questioned Francis, interrupting whatever the hell Tino was saying. Francis didn't really care at all. "Why don't you go talk to Norway? He looks pretty lonely right now."

Tino looked back at Norway, seeing him all alone, and then at Francis. "Oh! Well, I'd better get going then. See you later, Francis."

Francis sighed in relief when Tino was out of hearing range. He didn't mean to be rude to the cute little Finnish man, but sometimes he could be so annoying! To think something that little could keep talking and talking so much!

Arthur moved yet again in his sleep. Francis hoped Arthur won't wake up soon. Number one, because Arthur was so cute, calm, and at peace when he was at sleep and two, Arthur may be traumatized by touch again. Stupid Gilbert and Antonio . . . Glaring at the two who were near Feliciano, Francis unconsciously brought Arthur closer to him and began to stroke the green-eyed man's hair.

Hopefully, by the time Arthur wakes up, Arthur will be back to his normal, usual self. Well, at least to not being like a little child.

Moving again, Arthur murmured something in his sleep fearfully and began to shake wildly. Wondering what the problem was, Francis realized that he was still clutching Arthur to his chest and stroking his hair. Quickly dropping the hands away from the sleeping Brit, Arthur turned peaceful again when his head was on Francis's lap instead.

"Hey, how's Sleeping Beauty?" asked Gilbert, catching Francis off guard, and resumed holding Arthur tightly, completely forgetting about what had happened previously.

"He's fine," growled Francis. He instantly forget that he confided in Gilbert and Antonio about what really happened to Arthur, and only remembered about them messing up Arthur's mind.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "Ooh~ I see someone's defensive."

"Prussia," started Francis with clear threatening, warning, and accusing evident in his voice, which was unusual for him to treat his friend with.

"Ooh, I see. When did we ever get on nation names?" asked Gilbert, smirking at his 'friend.'

"Oh, shut up," said Francis, looking at both Gilbert and Antonio. "I trusted both of you about Arthur, but that doesn't mean I'm still not happy what you two did to him!"

Antonio looked at Francis, obviously puzzled. "What did we ever to do _Inglaterra_?" asked Antonio.

Francis almost face-palmed himself, but he didn't. Antonio could be so oblivious sometimes. "Remember when you two put your arms around him . . . ?"

Then Antonio's face lit up like a light bulb. "I know what you're talking about now!" And then his face began depressed and was frowning. "I remember now."

Man, Arthur moved again for the hundredth time! The poor little Briton was shaking, twitching, and mumbling something fearfully in his sleep. Then, Francis noticed his arms for the second time, and removed them so Arthur's head was still lying on his lap.

"Is _Inglaterra _okay?" asked Antonio worriedly, but it wasn't too worriedly though; he still remembers Captain Kirkland of course.

"He's fine," muttered Francis, but it sounded like it was meant for his ears only. Realizing something, Francis asked, "Wait, why do you guys keep coming over here then go back to Feliciano as soon as you're done?"

Gilbert sighed. "As much as I love cute Ita-chan, I'm still one of your friends. We would never abandon you like that! Besides, we want to give you some privacy with little Artie here." At this point here, Gilbert winked suggestively at Francis and nudged the other's arm with his elbow.

On a normal circumstance, Francis would have been pleased with his friend and wink suggestively back and laugh. But as you know, this is most definitely not a normal circumstance. "Are you crazy? After what happened to him? Hell, I would even beat up _Amerique _if he pulled something on Arthur like that. And _Amerique _is Arthur's boyfriend!"

"Okay, okay." Gilbert held up his hands as a defense. "Jeez, no need to take it so harshly."

"I'm sorry Gilbert," Francis replied and sighed long. "I've just been on edge ever since you know what happened to Arthur."

Gilbert didn't say if he forgave Francis or not, but he clasped a hand on Francis's shoulder and looked him straight in the eye. It shocked and scared Francis just a little to see his friend act like this, but not that long after Gilbert removed his arm and went back to Feliciano with an even more confused than ever Antonio trailing behind.

_What the hell was that about? _thought Francis, rubbing his chin in wonder. He soon shrugged soon after and let the thought disappear.

~ Hetalia! ~

"Hey!" yelled Alfred quite loudly to Yao, who looked at him in surprise. "How long 'til we get to kick some ass?"

Yao rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "At the least five hours aru."

Alfred's reaction was not to be unexpected. "NOOO! That'll take FOREVER!" exasperated Alfred.

The Kirkland brothers and Australia rolled their eyes along with Yao. So predictable Alfred was.

"Kiku~" sang Alfred, causing the Japanese man to look at him. "What time is it?"

Kiku sighed. How many more times does he have to ask what time it is? "It's 8:00 at night, Alfred-kun."

Alfred's expression turned into one of horror. "But that'll take-" He stopped midsentence to count on his fingers "That'll take until 12:00 a.m.!"

"America," began Dylan, "don't you mean at the least 1:00 a.m.?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever!" said Alfred. "It's still a really, really, really long time!"

Australia shook his head at Alfred's antics. And to think he has to deal with this huge mess for another five hours at the least, then go and rescue his mum (he refuses to call Arthur anything else but Mum; no seriously, you can't talk him out of it), but then Mum might be seriously hurt or injured, and then he has to go kick some major ass.

So far this week, Australia's beginning to think his life sucks.

~ Hetalia! ~ 

_I hope all of you have had a great beginning of the year so far! On Friday I just celebrated Orthodox Christmas with my family so I wasn't able to get to my laptop at all that day. _

_Until next chapter!_

_~Aly208_


	14. Chapter 14

Elizaveta was constantly pacing for ten minutes, not stopping for a second and trying to think of a way out of this hell hole. She rubbed her tired, red eyes and yawned really loudly.

_You know, I should really get to sleep right now, _she thought, slowing down and looked about ready to fall on the leather chair and fall asleep calmly. Realizing this, Elizaveta stopped rubbing her eyes, slapped her face, and continued to pace.

_I can't believe I almost fell asleep. I'm such a disgrace sometimes! _Thought Elizaveta some more. She rubbed the red mark on her cheek almost thoughtfully. Although the slap had hurt, she was glad because that simple stung brought her out of her tired haze and into someone more energetic.

Eyes wide and hair tangled, someone might call Elizaveta crazy. But then again, how long was she in here? Five, six, seven days? She honestly lost count after the fourth day of being trapped.

She hoped that the nations would get the, um, how much money was it again? A million U.S. dollars? Was that a lot? Elizaveta had trouble calculating that into Euros, but after checking over the Math in her head twice, she ended up with 771, 069.473 Euros. Her mouth dropped open. That much money was so much! If the nations had to pay that much (each, she recalled after William told her) then everyone would go bankrupt! Oh my, then maybe, just maybe, they would come here to bust them out instead? Elizaveta knew she would do that herself if other nations were kidnapped.

Still pacing, almost in a pattern now actually, Elizaveta thought and thought and thought and thought. Man, oh man, she was really hungry. She just couldn't help herself as she started to get side tracked from the plan of getting out. Well, she just couldn't! Her stomach was starving and hasn't been fed in almost two days! That is an extremely long time not to be fed!

Eventually, Elizaveta grow tired of pacing. The strength inside her just couldn't keep it up; she was filthy, exhausted, and starved, and she really needed to sit down. Hopefully, that perverted idiot Brian and the slightly less dumb, but still just as evil, Alex, will come and give her food. Then, once she is filled up, she will think properly and have strength to pull off the mission (maybe).

Speak of the devil and he will arrive, the door burst open with Alex holding a bowl of food. The dark brown eyed man simply dropped the bowl on the table which landed with a large thump. Elizaveta glared at the man in front of her.

"What happened to Brian?" demanded the angry Hungarian. She wanted some more vengeance and that wouldn't be fulfilled until Brian was here. Elizaveta knew that she couldn't do anything to the man in front of her, unless she really wanted to be punched.

Alex rolled his eyes in a disrespectful manner. "With what you did to him last time? I don't think so. Those bruises still didn't heal still. He's a pussy, even though William doesn't appreciate what you've been doing to Brian."

Scoffing right back in the same disrespectful manner, Elizaveta said, "So? And if William doesn't appreciate it, then why doesn't he just put me with the kidnapped nations?" 

"You know plenty well why we can't put you with the other nations," retorted the man in front of Elizaveta. He leaned closer to the woman sitting on the chair. "And Brian wanted me to tell you; he really, really wants to be with that one nation – you know the one with the thick eyebrows? I think that was Arthur, England right? Yeah, just wanted to tell you this, since it was your entire fault that Brian got to Arthur."

Elizaveta's teeth grated against each other. Alex just merely laughed and went out with a loud slam when he closed the door. Blinking back tears, Elizaveta wasn't really that sad. Alex just said that to piss her off because he was evil, and Elizaveta was used to the treatment he gave her anyway.

After staring into her bowl for a minute, she picked up the spoon next to the bowl and began to eat her . . . goop or whatever it was. Elizaveta honestly couldn't tell, but she was just glad that she actually had food. Shoving more and more spoonfuls in her mouth in a desperate attempt at getting full, Elizaveta couldn't tell the taste or whether the food was salty or sweet.

The Hungarian sighed as she finished her goop. Sadly, the food did not really fill up Elizaveta, but then again, she was just happy for her stomach to be able to digest something.

Sighing even louder, Elizaveta began imagining a plan as soon as she got out. She knew where all the places were, even with her eyes closed she could find everything, so all Elizaveta would have to do is to find the other nations without being caught and get the hell out of there. Sounds simple, right? But Elizaveta knew that it wouldn't be that easy.

"Damn it, Elizaveta, think, think, think," she mumbled to herself, putting her hands on her head, closing her eyes shut and began to think hardly. As she ran her hands through her head, she felt a peculiar object on her hair. She looked at the door and felt the object on her hair.

Elizaveta just found a way out.

~ Hetalia! ~

Arthur's eyes fluttered, his big, green eyes opening wide, looking up at the dark ceiling above. But then his touching sense kicked in and he felt unfamiliar hands go through his blonde hair and stroke it.

"Don't touch me!" he shrieked, slapping the hands away from him and jumping up, away from the offender. His backside hurt from the jump, and he twitched from the pain. It still hadn't gone away. Arthur just hoped that there wasn't blood on his pants. Arthur had – fearfully – thought that it was Git (no, Arthur still didn't know his name) again that was touching him, but it was just Francis.

Francis's face was a combination of emotions. For one, he looked very tired, he also looked a little relieved, and then hurt and confused. It looked like he was constipated. Arthur would've laughed if he wasn't so relieved right now.

"Oh, oh, it's just you." Arthur sighed, letting his tense shoulders droop down again. "I thought you were – never mind." 

"_Mon petit lapin, _you worried me so," said Francis, his hands itching to wrap them around Arthur, but didn't dare to. "Are you okay, _mon amour_?"

Ignoring a few of so many of his nicknames, Arthur nodded. "Yes, yes I feel . . . fine now." Arthur hesitated for the slightest bit in the middle, which didn't go unnoticed by Francis, who frowned lightly in turn.

"Are you sure?" pushed the persistent Frenchman. "You slept for quite a bit, _Angleterre_."

Arthur flinched – just the slightest bit – and tensed. "Leave it alone. I already told you I'm fine. Such a pushy frog, aren't you?" The last part was a bit of intended humor, so it could lighten the mood. Francis smiled, not a genuine smile, but just a small one.

Silence lingered for a few minutes, just both European countries sitting on the ground, staring at mainly nothing.

"I wish I knew the time," muttered Arthur, staring at his hands, which usually had nice, long, slim fingers, with trimmed fingernails, very soft skin, and were dainty. The Englishman loved his hands; there was always something about them that Arthur felt he was proud of. He thought he was quite average, a bit ugly even, but he was always felt satisfied with his hands. But now his pride was filthy, with dirty, disgusting, long fingernails, and his hands were very dry.

Francis knew about Arthur's love for his hands. They were a thing to be proud of, but Francis felt kind of sad to see his crush before him stare at his hands in disgust.

"Say, Arthur," began Francis, in an attempt to distract Arthur's attention from his hands, "remember that time when I broke into your house with Gilbert and Antonio and dragged you to a bar?"

Arthur chuckled dryly. "Of course I do. How could I forget after you put that waiter's apron on me, and I was wearing _only _that apron? I swear when my brothers came to pick me up, Iain looked like –" He abruptly stopped, sulking, looking depressed, and slight tears forming in his eyes.

Francis cussed at himself harshly inside his mind, thinking of every word and the worst words to call himself. "_Mon petit lapin, _are you okay?"

Nodding his head, Arthur rubbed his eyes, trying to do it subtly, but it didn't work out so well, and said, "Yes, I'm fine."

"But, _mon amour, _you are obviously sad. Please tell me what's wrong," begged Francis, putting his hands together and giving Arthur puppy dog eyes. Arthur shook his head.

"Arthur, please, please,_ please_, tell me what's wrong," tried Francis again. "You're making me sad with you being sad."

Finally, Arthur gave up and sighed. "Fine, but I'm not repeating myself again, so listen very carefully."

Francis nodded quickly, his eyes watching Arthur's every move like Arthur was about to tell him a fairytale, and waited for the green eyed man to talk.

Arthur took a big, unsteady, deep breath. "Well, remember when you told me about the bar? I – I remembered my . . . brothers." Arthur paused then continued shakily. "And . . . and when I remembered them, I t-thought of how they already h-h-hated m-me and they p-probably will h-hate me more since what happened to m-m-me."

Listening to the story with very attentive ears, Francis had the urge to hug the depressed, but still very cute, Briton. "Oh Arthur, your brothers most definitely do _not _hate you. Since what happened to you, they'll probably viciously attack whoever did this to you."

Arthur shook his head frantically, some more tears forming in his eyes. "No, no, you don't know my brothers. They'll hate me even more."

"Arthur," said Francis sternly, causing Arthur to look up at him in surprise, "I'm going to tell you this right now, and you are going to listen to me: _your brothers do not hate you._"

When Arthur didn't say anything for a long time after that, Francis almost assumed that Arthur believed him. Keyword: almost.

"There, are you happy that I just told you my worries?" asked Arthur, obviously mad at the usually perverted Frenchman.

"Very," responded the blue eyed man with a tired yawn. Arthur took one look at Francis and instantly felt bad for talking to him meanly. Francis looked like he hadn't slept in a while, with his red eyes, messy hair, and his yawning self.

"Look . . . Francis, why don't you go to sleep?" Arthur asked considerately. Francis shook his head in reply.

"Go to sleep, Francis," warned the Brit with a motherly tone, which must have come from taking care of so many colonies. "Go to sleep _now. _You are so tired right now it looks like you're going to fall if you stand up."

Then yet again, Francis shook his head stubbornly. "_Non, Angleterre. _If they take you again, I will have to kill myself."

Arthur sighed. "I can take care and defend myself plenty well. You need sleep right now and that's all that matters to me. So go now or else . . . or else I'll be furious at you." 

Can't seeming to argue with that, Francis just nodded his head sleepily, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, and drifted off to sleep.

And when he woke up, he found Toris instead of Arthur.

It looks like he'd have to kill himself.

~ Hetalia! ~

Patrick was bored.

Dylan wanted to slam his head against a wall.

Seamus felt like he should shove scissors in his ears.

Iain just wanted to use his weapons.

Alfred was impatient and wanted to kick ass.

And Australia just wanted to get off the truck.

"Are we almost there yet?" complained Alfred for the hundredth time.

Seamus covered his ears and said childishly, "LA, LA, LA; I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

"OI!" said Iain, elbowing Seamus's side hardly, causing him to stop covering his ears. "Shut up! You're almost more annoying than America!"

"HEY!" said Alfred loudly, losing his temper of being insulted yet again. "I can hear you guys!" he whined this time, forgetting his anger.

Dylan was even getting irritated by now. "Will you guys shut up? All of you are annoying and giving me a head ache!"

Agreeing with Dylan, Patrick nodded his head, his red hair, which was similar to Seamus's and Iain's, was falling into his eyes from the intensity of the nod. "Yeah, you guys, shut up."

"How about we all calm down, mates?" asked Australia, being the peace keeper for once instead of fighting.

"Ah shut up, you Aussie," said Alfred in an irritated manner, who still disliked Australia with a passion. It seemed that being in a truck for an incredible long time could get you irritated.

Before Australia could argue back to the American, Yao yelled at the top of his lungs, "WE'RE HERE, ARU!" 

And then Australia was trampled when all the others rushed out of the door.

Yep, Australia still thinks his life has been sucking lately.

~ Hetalia! ~

_The rescue chapter is almost here; I'm so happy! I thought this chapter would never come. Thank you to all the people who have stuck through with this story, all of you are totally awesome! _

_Until next chapter!_

_~Aly208_


	15. Chapter 15

Quickly taking the object out of her long, brunette hair, Elizaveta got off her seat in a flash.

_I can't believe I didn't think of this sooner, _thought Elizaveta, thumping her head in good measure. _Honestly, have I been getting stupider lately? _

She was about to use the small object to get out, but then she suddenly stopped. Elizaveta just realized, she should have thought of a better, more detailed plan.

_Ah, well, I think my plan is already good enough, _thought Elizaveta, shrugging her shoulders. And with that in thought, she eyed the bobby pin in her hand and tried to unlock the door.

After a few minutes or so of trying to unlock the door, finally, just finally, Elizaveta eventually heard a loud _click! _To her happiness and joy, she took the door handle in a firm grasp, and pulled the door open gently.

One part of Operation Save the Kidnapped Nations so They'll Stop Hating Her (Oh God, she's becoming like America!) was done. Now all the Hungarian had to do was rescue the nations, run like hell out of there, and maybe find a local gas station or something so the other nations would find them.

Elizaveta stuck her head out the door, looked right and left, and seeing that no one was there, pulled back the door even more and slowly put her foot out. No words could describe how nervous and anxious the green eyed woman felt. It was now or never; it was either fail or win. It was time.

As quiet as a mouse, she took her first step of the door and looked around once more. To her luck, no one was there. You'd think they'd hire some guards around here asides from Brian and Alex . . . Apparently, William underestimated them. And Elizaveta used that as an excellent advantage.

Since Elizaveta was absolutely, positively sure that no one was there, she quickly turned to her left and began to walk briskly around the corner. Wait a minute. . . Elizaveta looked back seeing that the door that sealed off her freedom was wide open. She turned back and shut the door quietly. It would be good if they didn't expect anything.

She went to her left again briskly, and after many twists, corners, and confusing paths, Elizaveta silently thanked everyone who was nice to here and the supposed person that was looking out for her, because she reached the door to the nations room without running into Brian, Alex, or William. Smirking, Elizaveta sure was glad that William underestimated them, and reached out to open the door handle.

~ Hetalia! ~

"Where the hell is Arthur?" yelled Francis loudly, his whole entire face red along with his ears. The anger he was in could be described as one thousand white suns exploding, but that would only be mild to what Francis felt.

The other nations looked at him in startled, sleepy gazes. Toris, who must've been returned after Francis fell asleep, woke up with a jolt, his eyes wide open. Francis, if he wasn't in such anger, would probably comfort and consult the Lithuanian, because Toris looked so tired right now. There wasn't too much damage to him – as far as Francis could tell – but you could tell that he was beaten up, but Arthur was a much worse case.

"Huh?" asked Toris, his eyes red, swollen, and bags underneath them. "What are you talking about?" he slurred.

"ARTHUR IS MISSING!" he burst, unable to hold the anger inside. That loud reply resulted in many of the nations waking up fully, with Toris being one of them.

Tino looked at him with wide, watery eyes. "What? I can't believe it! Not again!" he sobbed.

"Well he is," Francis said in a much quieter tone in before, but still loud enough to make some other nations cringe from the pain in their ears.

"What do we do now?" asked Roderich in a quiet voice. Francis looked up at him, startled. Roderich hadn't talked to Francis the whole time they were here.

"I say we try to break through the door, kick some ass, get Artie, and get out of this hellhole!" declared Gilbert, standing tall and proud, just like a leader.

Norway looked at the Prussian skeptically. "Prussia, I'm almost as sure as Francis loves Arthur that that plan won't work."

"I agree with Gilbert's plan!" piped in Feliciano brightly and happily, giving Gilbert a supportive hug from behind. Gilbert blushed, just a little to him, but since he was albino, it was a whole lot.

Antonio nodded. "I agree with Ita-chan and Gilbert!"

"All of you aren't serious, are you?" asked Roderich, almost as skeptical as the Norwegian that was crossing his arms over his chest.

Scoffing at his 'friend,' Gilbert put an arm around Roderich. "Of course I'm serious, Roddy! Now, on three we all run into the door, okay?" A few nodded, but the others just rolled their eyes.

"One . . . two . . . three!" Gilbert shouted then ran at the door at full speed. But right before Gilbert reached the door, said door latched open, and instead Gilbert ran into the wall outside the room.

"What the _hell _do you think you're doing?" asked a familiar voice from outside the door. All the kidnapped nations looked out the door to see Elizaveta with her hands on her hips and Gilbert on the floor, rubbing his head and moaning.

Francis looked at the Hungarian woman in complete awe and amazement. "Elizaveta . . . what are you doing here . . . ?"

Elizaveta looked at the many faces that were inside the door. She looked at them brightly and said, "Isn't it obvious? I'm here so save you all!"

~ Hetalia! ~

Australia groaned from the pain of being trampled over and rubbed his head. He saw that he was the last one in the truck, so he grabbed his weapon in a hurry and ran out, catching up to the others.

"What's the plan?" he asked Iain, his breathing uneven as he was tired from the running.

Iain looked at the Australian in a little bit of surprise. "Oh, we're going to go in there, find everyone," (and by everyone, Australia knew he meant only Arthur) "kick some ass, and then we go home. Sounds good, doesn't it?" 

The Aussie cocked a smirk; similar to the one Iain wore. "Yeah, it does, mate." 

Dylan turned back, looking between the two suspiciously. "What were you two talking about?"

"Oh, just how much they really want to kick ass," responded Patrick innocently, answering for both Australia and Iain.

The Welsh man only shrugged, apparently thinking that was appropriate enough, and ran inside the building, catching up with the rest of the group, while standing next to the furious Alfred.

Ivan was being the leader on this mission, and Alfred was so pissed off at the Russian for that. It probably didn't help that his sweetheart was locked up in there, but then again, the small rational part of Alfred thought that there were other nations kidnapped aside from Arthur. But this rational part didn't win in his mind.

Of course, though, Alfred stayed quiet, which was a very difficult task for him to do. So hopefully, he'll just stay quiet because Alfred knows if he talks out, then he'll probably be sent back to the truck, and then no one would be happy.

The group of nations began to move, Alfred raising his gun high in the air, his guard up in case there were any others around. When Arthur was at risk, Alfred would do anything.

~ Hetalia! ~ 

Arthur was sure that when he saw the man who had taken something very important of his, he would rather have died.

"Hello Sweet Lips," said the guard, chuckling when he saw the fear in Arthur's eyes, but that was a second before Arthur glared at him harshly. The gag was over Arthur's mouth, but Brian knew that the green eyed man would cuss, scream, and hurl insults at him the moment it was gone.

"You know," began Brian, tracing his hand over Arthur's left cheek. Arthur flinched at the touch and wanted to run away, but he was tied down to the chair, "you never learned my name."

Glaring even rougher now, the glare obviously said 'I-don't-want-to-learn-your-bloody-name-you-git,' but Brian had taken that as a, 'yes-I-want-to-know-what-your-name-is-you-sexy-devil.'

"I'm going to tell you my name," said Brian, putting both hands on Arthur's face so Arthur wouldn't look anywhere else but his eyes, "but only because I'm going to remove your gag so I can hear you moan my name. Oh yeah, my name's Brian."

Arthur's express turned one into fear and his eyes widened, basically telling the man before him that he didn't want anything that was going to be thrown at him. Brian misread the expression again.

Brian removed the gag slowly from Arthur's mouth, throwing the gag to the floor. Arthur looked at him in disgust and asked bluntly, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Jeez, I expected a better greeting, like 'how are you?' or 'hello sexy, let's just get down to it,'" huffed Brian, crossing his arms over his chest like the child he was.

Arthur spit at his face, the saliva landing smack dab in Brian's eye. "It's a little hard when you're kidnapped and bound up in a chair, being forced to do something you don't like, don't you think?"

After a few minutes of Brian groaning and shrieking about how much his eye hurt, Brian glared at the Englishman, gave him a harsh slap, and said, "You don't fucking talk to me like that."

Wincing, Arthur felt slight tears in his eyes from the impact of the slap, but said back boldly, "I'll talk to you anyway I like." 

Another slap echoed throughout the room, this time with the sound of clothes being removed.

~ Hetalia! ~

Elizaveta and the kidnapped nations ran down the hallway since Francis had told Elizaveta that Arthur was taken again. The Hungarian, in an angry frenzy, had started to stomp down the hallway, an angry frown over her features.

"Are you sure you know what door Arthur is in?" asked Francis, running to keep pace with the other female. Elizaveta nodded quickly, not wasting any moment to stop or take a break.

As the group of nations began going down every twist and turn Elizaveta put them through, they ran into another group, with Elizaveta clashing her head against another's.

Elizaveta looked up at the other group, suspecting that this was William, but actually saw the faces of the other group. Full of happiness and relieve, she asked, "How did you guys get here?"

"Long story," said Ivan, looking through the group for a specific Lithuanian brunette. He found his lover, took one look Toris, embraced him, and then his evil aura went off.

Alfred was overjoyed, along with the Kirkland brothers and Australia, to find the other nations. As many nations embraced and talked, Alfred tried to look through the crowd for Arthur, except he found nothing.

"Where's Arthur?" he asked quite loudly, gathering the attentions of many. Francis saw the American and the others looking for Arthur and went over to them nervously.

"_Amerique, _Arthur's brothers, and Australia," he began in a depressed tone, "I'm afraid that the people who had stole us . . . took Arthur."

Iain's eyes widened and grabbed Francis's shirt with more force than needed. "Took him where?" he asked threateningly. 

Francis gulped. "Somewhere in the building, we're trying to find him, but we didn't find him yet."

And with that said, Iain released the other's shirt and went looking for Arthur with the others.

Alfred didn't feel so good. His heart felt awfully heavy and if he found something horrible happened to Arthur, then damn it, someone was going to get murdered. This went against his heroness, but Alfred honestly didn't care. If someone took Arthur, then they were going to pay.

Elizaveta had gone with the others to show them the room where Arthur was and soon she found it not even five minutes later. Alfred pushed her out of the way and opened the door with so much force that it was surprising that the door didn't fly off.

And what Alfred saw gave him so much revenge and anger that he could have murdered a boat full of people and even destroy every burger on the planet.

What he saw was another man touching his sweetie, with Arthur's and the man's clothes thrown randomly around the room, and Arthur sobbing the whole way through. Alfred's heart split into two.

Without any warning at all, Iain leapt out of the crowd, grabbed the man, and slammed him against the wall. "_What the fucking hell do you think you're doing to my little brother?"_ yelled Iain, his face as red as his hair, and began to shake the man senseless and began to beat him up as well.

Seamus and Australia also joined in the beating up of the guard too, but not nearly as much as Iain was beating Brian up. Kicks and punches flew in all directions, never once stopping. Patrick looked on in horror as he looked at his brother lying in a heap of blood on the floor and Dylan was quietly crying into the sleeve of his shirt. Alfred stood there gaping like an idiot while Francis ran over to Arthur.

"_Mon petit lapin,_" cried Francis, doing everything but throwing himself at the Englishman. "Did he do it again?" he whispered into Arthur's ear.

Arthur's words were shaky due to his sobbing, but he managed to shake his head. "N-no, but he was t-t-this c-close." And he couldn't talk anymore as he went into a heap of tears.

Alfred eventually stopped gaping like and idiot and threw a few punches at the guard along with Francis, while Dylan and Patrick went to comfort Arthur. Stopping quite quickly with the beatings, Alfred soon went to Arthur and pulled him into a hug, wrapping his beloved jacket around Arthur's naked, shivering form.

"P-please d-d-don't touch m-me, I-I'm h-hideous," said Arthur, some more sobs escaping his lips and started to back away from his American boyfriend. Alfred gasped with Dylan and Patrick in unison.

Iain must've had ears like a hawk because he heard what Arthur had said and abruptly stopped beating up Brian and actually turned to look at Arthur. Arthur hung his head low, as if he were a shame to his brothers, and he bit his lip, a few more sobs accidently escaping his lips.

Suddenly, Iain walked over to Arthur, picked him up, scooped him up in his arms, and uncharacteristically gave him a kiss on the forehead. "You're not hideous," said the Scot warmly. The move startled Arthur so much that even more sobs came out and he buried his head into Iain's chest.

Alfred looked at the two brothers with jealousy. Why didn't Arthur do that with him? Growling inside his mind, he saw Australia and Seamus give up beating on the guard and join the others, including with him.

"Mum," said Australia in a gentle tone, poking his finger at Arthur's head in order for the blonde to get his head out of Iain's chest. No avail, "are you okay?" 

But still Arthur wouldn't get up. Francis thought that this was rather unusual, since before if anyone had touched Arthur he would've gone crazy. Maybe it's because they're brothers . . .

Even in more jealousy, Alfred asked if he could carry Arthur, because you know, he was Arthur's boyfriend and all. Reluctantly (in fact, it was more than reluctant, because could you really imagine letting your younger sibling's boyfriend hold them when they were basically nude?), Iain handed Arthur over to Alfred.

Arthur gasped as he felt different hands hold him. He squirmed in Alfred's grip with tears in his eyes. "D-don't t-t-touch me." Alfred's heart split into two so loudly he thought the whole world could hear it.

Iain froze when Arthur said those three little words. The red head turned to Francis and began to interrogate him. "Why did Arthur say that?"

Nervous, Francis began to stutter, suddenly feeling very hot. "Well –" The blue eyed man looked at Arthur, who was still squirming, so that wasn't much of a help. "Arthur – Arthur's been r-r-raped."

Let's just say that no one in that room took the news well.

~ Hetalia! ~

_Rescue chapter is finally here! Probably around few more chapters and this story will be done. Next chapter, how will the others take the news? _

_~Aly208_


	16. Chapter 16

Three little words. That was all it took for Iain to become a furious, spluttering, vengeful, crazy Scot. And no, that was most definitely not a good thing if you were Brian.

Seriously though, when Iain had first seen his brother being touched by another man and sobbing about it, he could have murdered the guy. In fact he will, and he won't give a damn if anyone will try to stop him, because Arthur is _his little brother. _And if you _dared touch _Arthur, then you would have to go through Iain first, along with the rest of the Kirkland family.

And then when Arthur said to Alfred, "P-please d-d-don't touch m-me, I-I'm h-hideous." Iain took actual notice of how his younger brother looked. And the damage was _bad. _Arthur looked like he was brought back up from the dead. Then Iain felt _really horrible_ and even angrier, especially at himself. Because Iain knows he could've stopped this from ever happening. And he felt horrible because Iain fights with Arthur all the time; it was a true fact. And Iain regrets every horrifying word, punch, and taunt to his brother (which was quite a lot). Now the Scot wants to change, even if that meant giving less noogies and more hugs.

So Iain did the most second natural thing (the first one being to punch the person who made his brother like this, but Arthur looked like he needed some comfort about now) and picked the Englishman up, kissing him once on his forehead, and hugging him close to his chest. Arthur was shocked to say at the least and Iain knew his other brothers were too. He wasn't a very . . . well, affectionate person, unless you count teasing and giving out noogies, but then again, he didn't just do that to everyone.

Since Iain decided on changing about his habits of torturing his younger brothers, he had absolutely no idea on how to react about Arthur. Well actually he did, he wanted to beat the fucking shit out of that guy who did this, but he just wasn't sure if he should do that or get Arthur the hell out of that American's grip.

But everyone else knew how to react actually. Arthur reacted with tears, afraid of how everyone else was going to react and the memories of reliving it over again. Patrick stared at Francis like he just grew three heads. Dylan went to comfort his brother, trying to snatch him out of Alfred's grip, but was too weak. Australia stared down at Francis, at Alfred, and then at the guard. Seamus cracked his knuckles angrily, going for a round two. And Alfred . . . Iain almost flinched at his expression. The American had fury written all over his face with justice and a look of craziness all thrown into one.

Before Iain could react naturally to the news, he thought of another thing. And it hit him like a sack of bricks in the face:

Arthur was a virgin when this happened. Arthur was a _freaking pure, magical-seeing, unicorn-loving, virgin. _Iain knew how to act now. And he wasn't happy, not one bit.

Then, before Iain could control himself, went to the already bloody, beaten up guard, picked Brian up by the collar of his shirt and yelled at him in the loudest voice he could summon up, "YOU SON OF A FUCKING BITCH, I'M GOING TO BEAT YOU SO HARD YOU'LL HAVE NO IDEA WHERE YOU ARE! WHAT THE _FUCK _IS WRONG WITH YOU, DOING THAT TO MY LITTLE BROTHER? I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU! DID YOU KNOW THAT HE WAS A _VIRGIN _WHEN THIS HAPPENED? EVEN MORE THE REASON TO BEAT YOU!"

Arthur looked at his eldest brother, tears messing up his vision, but could still see how red and enraged the Scot looked. It made Arthur feel afraid of his brother and loved at the same time because he never would've guessed how maddened Iain would've been.

Despite how much Brian was being beaten up due to Iain (Seamus and Australia ended up having to hold him back, just in case Iain 'accidently' killed Brian in the process), he still had the guts to say, "So he was a virgin, huh? No wonder he was so hot and tight."

Iain's eyes went bloodshot red and wide at the same time Arthur let out a wail at the memory. But before Iain trampled the other man in fury, a fist went flying into Brian's face from the side.

There was Alfred. He obviously looked pissed off and murderous. The way he stood alone just said, 'Don't get near me unless you want a punch in the face, too.'

"What. Did. You. Just. Say." Alfred shook with fury, barely able to talk.

Brian looked up at the angry American, gulped, but still said bravely, "I fucked your little boyfriend and I enjoyed every second of it."

Alfred's fist went slamming into Brian's head, knocking the man out cold. The American let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in and dropped to his knees, holding back tears in his eyes. He couldn't believe it, Arthur was taken the privilege of having a special first time with the one he loved (guess who Alfred hoped it was?) and now Arthur would have to suffer for it. Alfred wanted to go back in time and warn himself about this happening.

"Hey guys it's time to – ooh, did I come in at the wrong time?" Elizaveta stepped out from the door way, observing Arthur basically naked and crying, Dylan consulting his poor younger brother while fighting back Francis from Arthur, Patrick still gaping, Alfred on his knees, Brian unconscious, and Seamus and Australia still holding back Iain.

"No, it's a perfectly good time," spat out Dylan sarcastically, holding his younger brother's body close to him in an attempt to warm him. Hey, Arthur was still only wearing Alfred's jacket around him.

Iain shrugged off Seamus and Australia, went by Arthur and picked up the smaller Briton up, holding Alfred's jacket tightly around Arthur so nothing would show, and cuddled Arthur into his chest. Sighing in relief, comfort, protection, and warmth, Arthur hid his head into his older brother's chest, some tears still following down his cheeks.

"There, there," comforted Iain, rubbing small circles on his younger brother's back. The action caused most of Arthur's sobbing to dissolve, instead becoming hiccups. The red haired man began walking towards Elizaveta, where the door was.

Since they appeared to be leaving, Seamus grabbed the black, blue, and red Brian and literally dragged him out. But before he took even five steps, Elizaveta interrupted.

"Wait – we're not going on the bus anymore. That's where all the people who kidnapped us will go. We got a private jet instead," explained Elizaveta, staring at Arthur's form with pity and guilt.

Iain gave a simple nod, called the rest of his brothers to come, and stomped out the door with Arthur in his arms. When the Kirkland brothers and Francis (he had decided to follow the brothers when Arthur was going with Iain) were gone, Australia went up to Alfred and put his hand on the American's shoulder. Alfred looked up to see Australia look at him with sympathy.

"What do you want?" growled out Alfred, blinking away small tears from his eyes, and tried shrugging Australia's hand off. Unfortunately for him, it was like Australia's hand was glued in place to his shoulder.

"Listen, I'm not going to give you any insults. How about we call a truce, for the sake of Mum?" Alfred looked warily at the Australian at first, but nodded his head anyway. The two-cowlick man continued with his talking.

"I'm sorry for you. I know what you're feeling right now. You're feeling anger because someone had just hurt Mu – I mean Arthur."

Alfred gave him a furious glance. "But that's not all! I feel guilty because I could have stopped this. I feel like busting someone's head open. And I feel depressed because Arthur pushed me away when I was giving him comfort!"

Yet Australia still gave him a pity glance. The fire inside Alfred grew even larger, licking his insides with fury. "That's normal for you to feel this way. You feel helpless because you feel like you're doing nothing to help Mum. And that depressed feeling? Give Arthur some time; he wants to be with his brothers right now. God knows how Iain became affectionate all of a sudden and Mum probably wants to soak up the feeling. But don't give up on him, though, Mum is just a bit confusing. He doesn't want you to see him in a state like this, so vulnerable and weak. Show Mum you care for him."

The American cocked an eyebrow at Australia. "When did you become an expert on feelings?"

The Aussie merely chuckled. "Let's just say when I was younger, Aunt Dylan talked to me _a lot _and I just happened to be a good listener."

Giving a small chuckle as well, Alfred stood up from the ground with more enthusiasm than before. But not too much enthusiasm; Alfred still wasn't feeling right about what happened to Arthur.

Walking out together, Australia and Alfred ended up finding the entire group on a small, private jet outside. They found the jet rather easily, since it was right outside the building and you would have to be totally blind not to see a jet.

As Australia began to climb up aboard the jet, Alfred rested his hand on the other's shoulder. Australia looked back to see Alfred opening his mouth to talk.

"Australia, thank you for the talk; I appreciated it," said Alfred, staring down at his feet. Australia blinked and then smiled largely.

"You're welcome!" And with that, the two English-speaking nations walked into the small jet. Although, both wished they hadn't.

"I'LL KILL YOU ALL; ALL THREE OF YOU!" Alfred and Australia had just walked in to hear Iain shouting loudly at what appears to be three other nations. Guess which nations he was talking to?

When both Alfred and Australia heard the furious shout of anger, they rushed into the jet to see what the problem was. There was Iain, his face imitating a tomato with his hands clenched by his sides, yelling at the shivering messes that were Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio. Arthur was seated in one of the plane seats, his green eyes wide at his brother's antics, and hugged Alfred's jacket close to his body, delighted by the original scent of Alfred coming off it. That part warmed Alfred's heart.

"Oi, what's going on?" asked Australia warily, not sure whether to join Iain in yelling at the Bad Touch Trio or stop him.

Patrick answered for the spluttering Scot; his tone just a tiny bit bored, and patted Arthur on the head calmly from behind Arthur's seat. "Oh, Iain found out what happened when Gilbert and Antonio did to Arthur during the kidnapping. Francis is just there because Iain's sure that he did something to Baby Kirkland." Here was where Patrick patted Arthur on the head again, showing them that Arthur was Baby Kirkland.

Alfred froze at the same time as Arthur slightly scowled at the familiar nickname. "What _did _they do to Iggy?" 

Arthur looked up in surprise at the threatening tone in Alfred's voice. He was sure that Alfred wouldn't even want to touch him anymore due to what had happened to himself. The memory brought tears into Arthur's eyes; Alfred mistaking them for what Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis did to Arthur was that bad.

Growling, Alfred asked even louder and slower, "What. Did. They. Do."

"Antonio and Gilbert touched Baby Kirkland right after you-know-what-happened to Arthur and screwed him up in the mind," replied Patrick, ruffling up Arthur's hair and rubbing his face affectionately to Arthur's neck. Arthur didn't even bother to stop him and, just once, cuddled back, the tears stopping. Alfred looked at the pair in jealousy while Dylan, Seamus, and Australia smiled lightly at the display of affection.

Iain's face was still pretty red, but he appeared to calm down after Patrick comforted Arthur. The Scot turned to sit back in his own seat, which was right next to Arthur (**), but before he did he said threateningly to the Bad Touch Trio, "You touch Arthur again and I'll definitely make sure to get you all hospitalized."

The three friends all nodded, scared out of their wits, and scurried back to their own seats. Francis was actually quite depressed, since he won't be able to get to Arthur again without his brothers, Australia, or Alfred in the same room.

Alfred looked around inside the jet, eyes skimming past every seat, and asked, "Where am I going to sit?"

Arthur looked at Alfred like he wanted him to sit near him, but Iain put an arm around Arthur's shoulders, pushed his younger brother's head into his chest, and shot Alfred a deadly glare.

Seeing that, Alfred argued back. "C'mon! I know Artie is your brother, but he's my lover! I love him and I want to be near him, so please?"

Iain sighed, dropping his glare and stood up from his seat. Overjoyed at having some alone time with Arthur, Alfred ran to his new seat. But then Iain did the unexpected. He picked Arthur up, sat down in Arthur's seat, and pulled the other green eyed Briton on his lap (much to Arthur's slight protest).

"What? Did you honestly think I was leaving my youngest brother with you _alone_?" retorted Iain after seeing the incredulous look that the American had given him.

Alfred knew that if he talked back that there would be no seat next to Arthur, so he sat down in his seat, his shoulders slumped. But he tried to look cheerful when he looked at Arthur and began to talk.

"Hi Artie, are you okay?" he asked. Arthur nodded his head, despite how awful he felt. He didn't need Alfred to worry about him. His poor American lover is probably already distraught enough.

Iain looked away from the two talking, staring at everything else. What? He was a fairly reasonable person (behind him, Dylan rolled his eyes without knowing why).

"Did anything else happen to you?" whispered Alfred, trying to keep Iain from hearing him. Sadly, that failed, but Iain didn't appear to be talking at all or minding.

Arthur felt slightly guilty, his heart being squeezed, even though nothing else really did happen. Was it Francis? Did he feel like he was cheating on Alfred?

"No," he responded, cuddling and making himself comfortable in his brother's lap. Iain's lips twitched upwards into a smile. Really, Arthur could be so cute sometimes. And secretly, Iain loved cute things.

Actually, when Iain found out about Arthur being raped, he thought Arthur would push the brothers away. It turns out, the opposite happened. When Iain had given him a hug, it seemed that Arthur _wouldn't_ let go of him. And then there was that one look Arthur had given him in there . . . It looked like Arthur was . . . ashamed? Did Arthur honestly think that this was his fault? Frankly, Iain couldn't believe it.

Then there was a bit of a silence. Alfred just looked over at how Arthur was looking, seeing if he was healthy or not. Arthur looked a lot skinnier and bruised up. Why would someone do this? And why to his own charming, beautiful, amazing lover? It made no sense to Alfred.

Arthur wrapped the jacket around his body tightly after the pilot had announced that they were taking off. He sniffed the jacket and sighed deeply. It smelled just like Alfred, like hamburgers, dirt, and grass. The smell comforted Arthur a lot. It was a sense of warmth, comfort, and protection to him.

"Alfred." Arthur tugged on the blue eyed man's shirt like a small child. Alfred looked down at him, waiting for Arthur to talk. "I-I just wanted t-t-to say t-thank you for p-putting the j-j-jacket on m-me."

Alfred smiled wide. "That was nothing, babe!" At this part, Iain looked at him daringly and Alfred thought those nicknames were a bit too soon. "I mean, you needed it. You were naked and all . . . and I couldn't see you all hurt and abandoned like that. Here, you can even keep the jacket."

The petit man looked at Alfred in surprise and shock. Alfred giving him his own jacket? Alfred giving him his _beloved jacket that he wore every day and treated like his own child? _

"No, I can't accept this. Alfred, this is yours. Just because this happened to me doesn't mean –" Arthur abruptly stopped talking, his hands over his mouth. Iain looked down at his brother in surprise and knew what was going on. He spotted a brown paper bag by his side and gave it to Arthur, who opened it and emptied his stomach into it.

During the vomiting, Arthur had started to cry. Alfred looked like he wanted to comfort Arthur so badly, but he was torn. Iain began to rub small circles into Arthur's back, soothing him.

"What happened?" mouthed Seamus, turning around in his seat from in front to look at his brothers. He had heard the crying and was horribly worried for his youngest brother.

Iain mouthed back to him, "He threw up." The Scot hugged the sobbing smaller man, rocking him and rubbing circles into his back.

Seamus said a quiet "Oh," and looked at his younger brother in pity and worry.

As Iain began to comfort Arthur even more, Dylan and Patrick head the sobbing and stood up from their seats. All the brothers, aside from Arthur, gave each other a look. Hopefully, Arthur will get better in the future: especially after the visit to the hospital.

~ Hetalia! ~ 

_Wow, longer chapter than usual. I probably would've finished this earlier, but I was too busy making a YouTube video. I've made a few videos of Axis Powers Hetalia and if you want to see them go to: http: / / www . youtube . com /user/ Sandra2o8?feature=mhum (remove spaces). _

_Alright then, until next chapter!_

_~Aly208_


	17. Chapter 17

Arthur snuggled into his older brother's chest, crying pitifully. He just couldn't help himself; Arthur was quite sensitive and he couldn't control that fact. He's been sensitive since he was a young, tiny newborn.

And since the Englishman himself had mentioned what had happened to him right after he tried to give Alfred his jacket back, Arthur had felt awfully sick and afraid and just threw up. It was a good thing that Iain got him the bag. Sometimes Arthur thinks that his oldest brother is a life saver, both figuratively and literarily.

Now Arthur feels dirty and filthy. He wants to take a bath/shower/anything that'll get him clean. He wants to scrub himself down so hard that he might bleed in the process; anything to get rid of the feeling of filth. Besides, Arthur's backside still hurt and he was sure that he was a bleeding mess . . . and not only on his upper body.

"I'm worthless," mumbled Arthur quietly as he still sobbed into Iain's chest. He was absolutely sure that most of the other nations were staring at him. "I'm stupid; I'm nothing. No one should have to worry about me. It's my fault that this happened to me anyway."

Iain's grip on Arthur tightened, whispering in his ear, "You're not stupid or worthless. None of this is your fault. I don't want to hear you talk like that ever again." Then Iain sharply looked back up, glared, and yelled out, "What are you all looking at? Go mind your own business!"

The other nations who were watching the scene unfold quickly looked away, with most having light blushes on their cheeks and having the decency to at least look embarrassed. Others, like the Kirkland brothers, Australia, Francis, and Alfred, did not look away, but kept watching Arthur.

As Francis continued watching the petit British man sob, the more worse he felt. All he wanted to do – and he was pretty tempted – was to go over and hug Arthur tightly to his chest, but he knew that could possibly end his life. If guilt wasn't going to get to him first, then Arthur's brothers would.

So all he did was lean back into his seat and sigh. He waited to see if it looked like Arthur would need him to go over there, but it didn't look like it now. Just sighing, Francis really, really wanted to talk to Arthur. Hopefully, he'd get some alone time . . .

~ Hetalia! ~ 

Alfred was pretty sure the next time he saw that guy who touched Arthur, heads will roll. Even though that guy had gotten a horrible beating, Alfred wanted to beat him up more until he was satisfied. Why? Because he heard what Arthur said right now, about how he was nothing, stupid, worthless, and how the rape was his fault. Oh, Alfred was pissed.

But minutes of sobbing went into ten minutes and ten minutes turned into twenty minutes. Really, how long could Arthur keep crying? Alfred swore it was a gift to be able to cry this long, but the American just couldn't blame his sweetie. The green-eyed man has been through so much for the past week. You would have to be evil to blame Arthur on this all.

Iain just kept comforting Arthur the whole way through, whispering words of comfort in his ears, rubbing his back still. Dylan had even got up and given Arthur a kiss on the forehead, Patrick had gotten up as well and gave Arthur another cuddle, Seamus went to give the shorter man a hair ruffle and put his arm around the other's shoulder into a half hug, and Australia even gave Arthur a small hug, rubbing his head into Arthur's. Although Arthur had gotten pretty much used to touching around his brothers/family, he couldn't help but flinch a few times during the touching exchanges.

"Be strong for me, okay Mum?" asked Australia, giving Arthur a sweet kiss and warm smile after the Briton had nodded innocently enough without causing a scene about the nickname. He went back to his own seat, but not before looking behind him to see if anything happened to Arthur in the short five seconds he was gone. (Patrick rolled his eyes this time, without knowing why and looked confused right after. Dylan gave him an empathic glance).

"Artie~" sing sang Alfred, causing Arthur to look up at him immediately. In truth, Alfred may look like nothing's bothering him, but deep within him, there was a horrible jealousy that wanted to be let out. He was this close to just kissing Arthur lip to lip, but, uh, you know, that would, like, totally kill him and stuff. But it was really hard _not_ to kiss Arthur. Right now, the Brit had the total look of complete innocence, staring at Alfred intently, but playing with the hems of the jacket that was barely concealing his body. Ooh, Alfred almost, just almost, kissed Arthur . . . but Alfred could picture what would happen if Arthur's brothers saw.

Arthur nodded at Alfred, showing him that he was listening. Even Iain looked at the American, a bit of a curious gleam in his light green eyes, but to Alfred he looked he should've been having a cigarette in his mouth. That's how skeptical Iain looked.

The blue eyed nation started to pout, which made Arthur go back a bit and Iain to stare at him like he was crazy. Slowly, Iain started to pull his younger brother closer to his chest, farther away from Alfred (much to the younger Brit's protest), just in case the American decided to jump Arthur right there. Iain knew the look of that pout and he didn't like it one bit. No sir, not at all.

Then Alfred turned serious, but still had a dozy expression on his face. "Arthur, you're beautiful, you know?" He reached up to twirl a strand of Arthur's hair, making the latter blush and look down. The overprotective, big brother had a mind to slap that hand with a loud smack away from his baby brother's face, but didn't. Honestly, he wouldn't think Arthur would be that pleased.

Suddenly, Arthur moved his head from Alfred's hand and clung to Iain, face buried in the elder's chest. Arthur still had the blush on his face, though barely seen due to his face being concealed. After minutes of just lying and cuddling into his brother's chest, the petit Englishman fell asleep, some drool hanging out of his mouth.

Alfred looked heart broken, rejected, and depressed, which was what he was also feeling. Iain decided to take pity on his brother's boyfriend, because that man looked so let down that you'd have to be sadistic not to help him out.

"America . . . Arthur is just shy from contact now. Well, probably more to you than to me or my other brothers because we've been around with Arthur more; since we were children and had to take care of him. Give him time, be patient, and don't pressure him . . . or else." Iain just couldn't help himself by adding that little warning there. No, he seriously couldn't.

The other just nodded, feeling slightly better, and watched Arthur sleep calmly on the Scottish man's chest. Arthur really is such a beautiful sight . . . Alfred sighed, more sadly than in content. Iain yet again noticed and let out a long sigh from his lips.

"Boyo, if you're so depressed, I'll let you hold Arthur . . . for five minutes," spoke Iain truthfully and looked down at the innocence of his brother's form sleeping. What the hell was he doing? Iain knew he'd regret this sooner or later, but the look on Alfred's face was so cheerful, delight, and looked so trustworthy that Iain just had to.

"Really?" he asked, looking down upon the sleeping Brit eagerly. Iain reluctantly gave Arthur to Alfred, with the latter letting out a collective, happy gasp at the privilege of holding Arthur.

Hmm, his lover felt lighter than before this happened. And Alfred should know; he had made a movie about this less than two weeks ago. Oh, the movie . . . Alfred had completely forgotten about that. How did that movie ever become realistic? It was supposed to be and stay fiction!

But Alfred didn't complain, just simply held the older man to his chest the rest of the time with love in his eyes while staring at his lover. Iain didn't say anything, just kept letting Alfred carry Arthur the whole time.

~ Hetalia! ~

Arthur's eyes fluttered open, his eyes narrowed from waking up, which made his eyelashes look even longer than they originally would. After blinking a few times, his vision was clear rather than bleary and opened his big, green eyes to his fullest, staring at the room around him curiously. Or rather looking around to see what was happening.

The previously sleeping man wanted to stretch because he had not walked in a while, so he did. He lifted his arms wide and straightened his back, only to widen his eyes in pain and let out a loud whimper. The man who was holding him, which Arthur now saw was Seamus, peered down at him.

"What's wrong, love?" The Irish man asked, a bit worriedly, to his younger brother. Arthur basically shoved his face into Seamus's chest, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. His response was muttered quietly, not really wanting to say it out loud.

"What?" asked Seamus again, looking down at his brother with confusion mucking up his normally clear eyes. Hiding his face more, Arthur said nothing, just clutching his brother, his cheeks flushing even more so.

The red haired man just shrugged, but not before giving the other green eyed man a worried glance. After hiding his head for a few more minutes, Arthur bothered to remove his head from Seamus's chest shyly. He looked around, seeing that his other brothers, Alfred, Australia, and Francis were staring at him in distress. The Brit blushed again, but ignored the stares and saw that they weren't in the jet anymore. Instead, they were in a pristine, white room that smelled like antibiotics and illness. Arthur's nose wrinkled in distaste. He almost had the urge to vomit.

Unconsciously, Seamus checked to see if Arthur was covered from the jacket. Dylan saw this and gave a slight smile at the action. His older brothers were acting so much more mature . . . is it because of what happened to Arthur?

"Arth – I mean _Angleterre_, you woke up at the right moment. We were just about to wake you," said Francis. He then saw Arthur looking around the room in clear confusion. "Oh, we're in a hospital to get you and the other nations that were kidnapped checked out." 

Arthur looked panicked, his eyes widened in fear, and he tugged on Seamus's shirt, wiggling desperately to try and get out of his grip. Unfortunately for Arthur, Seamus had a grip like a crocodile and refused to let go. Seeing that Arthur was giving himself trouble, Seamus flipped Arthur so that the latter would be carried over his shoulder instead. Arthur began to put his delicate hands into fists and began to hit Seamus's back, while his feet lightly kicked the Irish man's front.

"I don't wanna go, I don't wanna!" Arthur shrieked, throwing a temper tantrum. Many of the nations gasped since Arthur had slurred and messed up in his own language. Everyone knew how Arthur treated his language with such care, carefully selecting appropriate words in his structured sentences.

But all Seamus did was try his best to cover up Arthur, which was hard to do so from the jacket riding up all the time due to the incessant kicking. "Arthur, you have to. They need to check you," Seamus said, trying to convince the stubborn Briton. But Arthur just shook his head childishly.

Iain stepped up to Seamus before anyone else could and made a gesture with his eyes. Seamus shook his head, saying that he didn't need any help, but a swift kick from Arthur knocked the wind out of him. Seamus gave Arthur a quick kiss on the cheek and handed over his kicking and pouting younger brother to his Scottish brother, all the while groaning and moaning about how Arthur should never be permitted to kick anything.

"Damn, that 'little daffodil' you call Iain probably can sterilize someone," muttered Seamus under his breath so the only other person that can hear him would be Iain.

Said man cocked a smirk and whispered right back, "Why do you think I'm so glad?" Seamus shaped his mouth into an 'oh' and stumbled back to the grouping of all the people who cared for Arthur.

Iain sighed, holding his brother close to his chest so he wouldn't be able to kick him. "Alright squirt, tell big brother Iain why you don't want to go to the hospital?"

Arthur hid his face yet again, this time wrapping his arms around Iain's neck. For a second, Alfred thought that Arthur was desperate enough to choke Iain to get out of the hospital, but it never came. Instead, Arthur hugged Iain tightly, refusing to let go.

A light hiccupping sound came from Arthur and his shoulders shook. Iain tilted the younger's head up to get a good look and was shocked to see tears spill down his cheeks.

"Arthur . . ." trailed off Iain, gently wiping off some tears on the crying Brit's face. The tears fell from Arthur's eyes even more, dropping like a leaky faucet.

"_Alba, _don't wanna go; it hurts, hurts, _Alba_," mumbled Arthur sadly, still acting like a young, small child. Iain's heart clenched at the sight of his brother begging not to go and he almost succumbed, just to see Arthur not crying.

Alfred, who was pretty quiet, watched the emotional scene. He saw how much Arthur had his brothers twirled around his little finger. He saw how much the Kirkland brothers' loved Arthur and visa versa. He saw how Arthur was the little baby of the family who had protective brothers and you would have to go through them first. He saw Iain's face become softer from just seeing Arthur cry. Alfred wasn't stupid, and he knows to never come between a Kirkland and his brother (especially when Iain and Arthur were together; the poor fool who would dare come between them).

"I'm sorry, _Sasana,_" Iain said, with real remorse and sorrow. His face was gentle and soft as he carried the pathetically sobbing Arthur into another set of doorways, straight into the Emergency Room. Dylan went to the front desk, explaining Arthur's condition and what happened to him. The lady at the front desk nodded with sympathy and pointed to a door on the right side.

So the group headed to the white door on the right side, but the lady at the desk called out, "Wait! Only one other person can go in."

The nations all glanced between each other, evaluating who would be the best person to go in. Iain looked about ready to step in to the door with Arthur, but a voice said, "Can I go?"

Iain blinked. "Sure Australia, but be careful with your mum here." And with that said, he handed the squirming and still crying Arthur to the Aussie, but not before giving Arthur a sweet kiss on the forehead.

Australia took his so called 'mother' in his grip, gave him a small squeeze, and walked into the room, bracing himself for the impact in case anything else was wrong with Arthur. Hopefully, Arthur didn't get any STDs . . .

~ Hetalia! ~

_Another update! A bit late, but I had an all day sledding day yesterday and had to get my cavities removed a few days ago. Next chapter we get to see Arthur's condition. _

_~Aly208 _


	18. Chapter 18

Australia walked rather quickly, holding Arthur in his grasp all the while. He had originally planned to comfort the Brit that was in his arms, but found that a struggle as said man was still writhing. Actually, Australia thought that Arthur had considerably calmed down, no tears whelming up in his eyes, only just tear-stained cheeks, and was only restless at this point. That was good: a sign of improvement.

Then Australia began to play the worst scenarios of what would happen when Arthur was examined. What if Arthur needed to get surgery? What if Arthur would never get better, emotional wise? And the one that Australia was most apprehensive about; what if he had a sexually transmitted disease? That one struck a nerve.

So Australia found himself in a quite small room that people with claustrophobia would not handle well, and the room was also spotless, white, and more on the bland side. There were posters on the wall, which mainly had bizarre pictures and how to prevent STDs. Inside the room, there was a few chairs next to each other, a small table for the patient to sit on, and a swirly chair specially meant for the doctor or nurse.

Quickly, Australia released the shorter man, laid him out on the table, and sat on a seat close by his former guardian. Arthur's eyes were murky with confusion, tilting his head, and looking around the room as if he had no idea why or where he was. The Englishman shivered slightly, hugged the jacket tighter around his form, and sat on his legs.

The pair sat in silence, Arthur now accepting defeat (which made Australia wonder where the actual Arthur was), and waited for whoever was going to help them. During the silence, Australia meticulously observed Arthur, eyeing every single movement. Ouch, his unofficially named 'mother' was so . . . so _different. _What had happened to the strong, sharp, independent, complaining, cynical, sarcastic English bastard that he had learnt to love? Instead a shell was left of it, leaving behind a vulnerable, dependent, fearful, distraught, and anguished nation. Australia missed the former personality so much that he would do anything to get it back, even if he had to endure the sassy and sharp witted comebacks a thousand times.

Finally, the doctor, or what Australia assumed was a doctor, came into the dwarfish sized room. The doctor was a female, about normal size for a woman, and had strawberry blonde hair along with a set of peculiar gray eyes.

"Hello!" the female spoke cheerfully. Australia almost rolled his eyes at the irony of this all. "I'm going to be your counselor. My name is Emma, and yours is Arthur, correct?"

Arthur nodded slowly, as if trying to comprehend what the overly happy Emma was saying. Emma noticed the rather sluggish movement, but said nothing about it. However, she also noticed Arthur's clothing, or rather lack of.

"Before we get started, would you like to be changed into a patient gown?" she asked kindly, taking a step back to get said gown. Arthur shook his head quickly, hugging the brown jacket even closer. Emma tilted her head and curiously looked at the jacket, wondering what was so special about it. She looked from the jacket to Australia.

"Ah, and you are . . . ?" she looked at Australia, trailing her sentence off. The Aussie looked up from being actually spoken to.

"I'm a close family member," Australia said simply, not seeing the look on Emma's face for him to go on, and finished after that.

Emma cleared her throat, just a bit too loudly. "Alright then, Close Family Member and Arthur, how are we doing today?" Despite talking to both of them, Australia knew the question was directly towards Arthur, so he said nothing. Arthur just shrugged, looking down at the floor and moving his legs so he wouldn't be sitting on them anymore.

Taking that for an answer, Emma continued, "I'm a trained rape counselor and I'm going to help you talk about your emotional, physical, and legal issues with this. Soon I'm going to give you an examination, but don't worry; it's just a simple drawing blood test to see if you have any STDs. Do you have any evidence, like clothing?"

Australia looked quickly up to Arthur and back to Emma. "Blimey, I . . . I'm not sure if we do. I have to see if the others have anything." Inside his head, Australia was swearing and insulting himself for forgetting such important things.

She gave Australia a brief sympathetic glance, and then gave her full attention to Arthur. "Do you know the time and date when this happened?" Australia appreciated that Emma actually didn't use the word rape. It made him feel better, if only a little.

Arthur gulped and took a large deep breath, saying unsteadily, "I-I t-t-t-think it happened a few days ago, maybe t-two days ago."

Emma nodded once. "How about where did it happen?"

Arthur looked at Australia and shrugged, his eyes showing some indescribable feeling that Australia was left clueless as to what emotion he should label that as.

"It . . . it happened in Austin, Texas," replied Australia in a solemn voice, yet again not adding specific details, which was how his personality was.

The counselor nodded again, not asking where_ exactly_ the rape happened in Austin, Texas. "Have you done anything, like showering, changing clothes, or coming straight here to the hospital since the attack?"

"I – I mean we – c-came here to t-t-the hospital," said Arthur, his voice unsteady as before. He then muttered in a quiet voice, "Even though I wish I can take a shower right now."

Australia cocked a grin after hearing that small mutter from Arthur. He knew his real mum was in there somewhere. It made him feel less hopeless and powerless as to what happened previously.

"Have you been on any medication, had any sexual assaults before, or any recent illnesses?" asked Emma, either not hearing that small statement from Arthur or completely ignoring it.

"No," spoke Arthur softly, not including all the times Francis had touched him during their whole history. _It wouldn't have counted anyway, _Arthur thought as he idly pushed back a strand of hair.

"Do you know anything else about what happened?"

Arthur hesitated, biting his lip softly as he stared at the ground. Why did Australia have the feeling that Arthur wasn't telling them the whole story?

Noticing the hesitation, Emma said in a calm, slow, and kind voice, "Arthur, if you know anything else you should tell us."

Then again Arthur hesitated, took a deep breath, and said shakily, "H-he t-t-told me that his name is B-Brian b-b-because he w-wanted me t-t-to m-moan it out. He also t-tried to do it with m-me t-twice."

Australia's mouth was hanging open in shock at the revelation. One hand was balled up into a tight fist while the other went searching for Arthur's hand, holding it and giving the hand a squeeze. Arthur gave back a light squeeze.

Emma's face remained passive, although gave the pair a short sympathetic glance and summoned up in the most mature, yet sweet voice, "Thank you, Arthur, for sharing that with us. Now all I have to do is give you an examination." The woman stepped back and reached for the syringe on the table.

"All I have to do is draw your blood and see if you have any STDs. Don't be frightened though; we have people here to help you if you actually end up having any STDS. But remember, none of this is your fault," explained Emma, walking over to Arthur's other arm that wasn't currently holding Australia's hand.

"Please roll up your sleeve," she said politely, gesturing at Arthur's arm. He let go of Australia's hand to roll up his sleeve quickly. Australia's hand went for Arthur's hand again, but Arthur shrugged it off. The Aussie looked up in confusion.

Arthur gave a small humph. "I'm not a little child. I'm perfectly content in getting my blood drawn without you holding my hand."

Giving a large smile at that response, Australia removed his hand and leant back into his chair, crossed his legs, and put his hands behind his head, still wearing that ridiculously large smile. Australia's mood went from distressed and worried to oblivious and happy in a matter of seconds. Arthur raised an eyebrow at the smile, but said nothing. Sometimes Arthur just couldn't understand his former brother/son/whatever.

Emma waited a few more seconds and then slid the syringe into Arthur's arm as sure as she knew that said man wasn't distracted by anything else. Arthur's cheeks lightly colored red, knowing exactly why Emma paused. s

But as soon as it came, the needle was pulled out of his arm, indulgently gleaming at the prospect of being filled with blood once more. Arthur almost glared at the syringe for that, but didn't because that would make him seem crazy. People already think his fairies and magical friends aren't real, if he started to give needles dirty looks that wouldn't look too good.

Now both Arthur and Australia were waiting in the room without Emma, who had to go to the lab to test the sample of blood. Nervousness and worry was high in the air, along with incredibly tense waves. They would soon know whether or not Arthur had STDs.

~ Hetalia! ~

Francis was so worried that he thought he might snap, which would most definitely_ not_ be a good thing.

The Frenchman was so, so, so distressed about Arthur. The thought of the examination sent shivers down his spine, thinking of horrible scenarios of what could be going on in that very room.

And what would happen to his and Arthur's relationship? Would they become lovers or just stay as friends? Francis wasn't sure, but he had to talk to Alfred. He had to see if Arthur was better off with him, the lovely Frenchman, or Alfred, the loud mouthed American.

"Alfred, can I have a moment with you?" asked Francis in utter seriousness as he stepped forward to where Alfred was currently nervously pacing. The man looked up at him in surprise, but followed Francis in the corner of the room where they could have a private chat.

"So what's up Francis?" Alfred asked, using Francis's real name instead of his country name, just like the French speaking nation did with him.

Francis shot Alfred an irritated glance, one that said 'don't say what's up to me.' "Alfred," began Francis after a few seconds of silence, "do you truly love Arthur?"

Looking at him with widened eyes and shock clearly written on his face, Alfred declared, "Of course I love him! I love him with all my heart and soul! I would even _die _for Arthur. Why do you ask?"

Ignoring the question, Francis continued on with his interrogation. "You won't ever cheat on Arthur or hurt him, right?" The thought of Alfred harming Arthur in any way, shape, or form made Francis's blood boil, but he played it cool and smooth. He couldn't screw this up. He had to find out who was better for the Briton.

"No, never!" replied Alfred honestly, or at least as honestly as he could. He would never hurt Arthur _intentionally, _but of course there's unintentionally . . .

"Will you stay with Arthur and comfort him when he needs it the most?"

Alfred's temper spiked. Well, this wasn't a thing to get mad over, but Francis asking him about how well he'll take care of Arthur pissed him off greatly, especially what they all went through.

"Of course I will!" exasperated Alfred, his eyes narrowing and exploding so loudly that many other nations turned to look at him. "I will always, always, _always _love Arthur unconditionally. I'll take care of him when he gets sick, comfort him when he needs it, be with him, laugh with him, and do _anything _with him. Hell, when he cooks I'll be there to taste it and tell him it's great just because I don't want to see him get let down! _That's _the kind of lover I am!"

Francis slightly paled at the loud tone at the same time Alfred took in heavy, deep breaths. In a very calm tone Francis said, "Alright then. That's all I wanted to know. I know now that you love Arthur very much." At this point, Francis's voice turned menacing, unlike his usual smooth and lovely voice, "But if you _ever_ hurt him, I'll be there to get you. I'll show you excruciating pain, pain that you would think only existed in movies."

Alfred's eyes became wider from their original narrowed position. Realization hit him like a ton of bricks. "Oh my God, you – you l-love Arthur," he said in a whisper, and stepped back until he hit the wall soundlessly.

Hesitating, Francis wasn't sure how to react. He didn't expect Alfred to stop being dense all of a sudden. What does he say now? Should he tell him the truth or lie? Francis decided on the former, since truth was better in this situation, so he nodded very slowly.

"Yes, I do. Very much so, might I add. But Arthur's heart belongs with you, and I cannot do anything about that, no matter how much I hate and try to deny it. You better be a happy man for me being so kind and fair to you. Make Arthur happy as well, or else you'll get it," concluded Francis bitterly and in a threatening voice. His voice then became softer and slightly kinder, but still bitter, as he said, "I wish you both the best of luck." With that said, Francis strutted away from the corner and went to sit back down in his seat from before, wiping away some tears from his eyes discreetly.

Poor, confused Alfred stayed at the corner, not sure what to do. What do you do when someone reveals their love for your boyfriend and threatens you if you happen to hurt said boyfriend? Alfred had never experienced this before, and trust him, he never wanted to or wants to ever again.

Actually, now that Alfred thinks about it, he should have known at least that Francis had a bit of a crush on Arthur. But no, he never suspected. He just thought that all Francis wanted to do was get into Arthur's pants, he never expected Francis to _love _Arthur. Now he was all confused and clueless, standing at the corner like an idiot. Alfred supposes that he should go back to his own seat, and he does do that, but he's worrying about Arthur and the examination and about Francis. What does he do now? 

Luckily for him, Arthur and Australia emerge out of the room soon after Francis's and Alfred's discussion – or rather revelation. Australia has his arm around Arthur's shoulder, grinning like the happy go lucky person he was. Alfred thinks that Australia should probably be skipping around the room or at least wants to.

"Examination went good, I'm guessing?" Dylan asked, noticing the delighted gleam in Australia's eyes and his large grin. Australia nodded quickly, giving Arthur's shoulders a tight squeeze. Arthur looks like he could care less about this situation, but his eyes show his real feelings. Arthur's eyes are light and gleaming, showing content and happiness.

"Arthur has no STDs!" Australia grins even more and Alfred's mood is immediately lifted. He goes to Arthur, smiling, picks up the shorter man and spins him around the room in joy. Arthur gives a slight protest, but not really, as Alfred starts to shout out cheers of delight. The Kirkland brothers look on at the display, Iain wanting to do nothing but rip his brother out of the American's grip, but they all do nothing. Dylan gives a slight smile along with Patrick while Seamus and Iain stand there. Francis is in the back, unnoticed as he wipes tears of sorrow and joy from his eyes.

"I wish you luck, _mon petit lapin, _and all the joy in the world," Francis whispers so only he could hear the words. He watches as Alfred sets Arthur back down, with Arthur giving Alfred a small smack on the shoulder for picking him up without warning, but everyone knows it's a playful smack. Alfred's smile spreads wider, giving out a hearty laugh, because everyone also knows that Arthur is improving at a rather quick rate.

Someone pokes Francis and he looks back to see Matthew behind him. "_Mathieu, _what are you doing here?" asks Francis in complete surprise.

Matthew gives a smile, a rueful one at first, but it becomes a real smile at the end. "I was here the whole time, no one just noticed me. I also wanted to see how Arthur was doing and especially how you're dealing with the loss."

Francis gives a nervous chuckle, his eyes averting back and forth. "What are you talking about, you silly nation?"

Yet again, Matthew smiles and rolls his eyes upwards toward the ceiling. "I know that you loved Arthur and let him go to Alfred. You're a good man, Francis, for giving him up to my brother, especially knowing how much you cared for Arthur."

"I _still _care for Arthur," Francis says through watery eyes. He wipes them off again, wishing they'd be gone. "I still love him. I'll never be able to let go of him, no matter what." 

Matthew gives a thoughtful look and gives out another gentle smile, reaching out to brush away some tears from Francis's face. "Sometimes if you truly love someone, you should let them go."

Francis chokes a sob and Matthew gives the depressed Frenchman an embrace, wiping a few more tears away gently. "But it's so _hard,_" groans Francis, trying to not watch Alfred laugh happily and Arthur coloring heavily. He envies Alfred so much. He wants to be the one that could make Arthur blush like that. He wants to be the one that could tease Arthur, knowing that it was only for fun. He wants to be the one that could touch and hug Arthur without the latter asking any questions why or punching him in the face. But he knows that would never happen.

"I know," said Matthew, comforting Francis even more by rubbing circles in his back and hugging him even more tightly.

~ Hetalia! ~ 

Arthur watches Alfred, who was talking excitedly and rapidly to him. Wow, just from not having any STDs can make Alfred pick him up and start spinning him around? Arthur knew that Alfred would be happy, but not _that _happy.

Right now Arthur knows that he should be paying attention to what Alfred's saying, but he couldn't bring himself to. The American wasn't even making sense now, just random jumbles of words coming out from his mouth. Arthur's thoughts eventually lead him to Francis, and he wonders how said man is. He hasn't really seen much of him since they were kidnapped. He wants to talk to him.

"Artie, Iggy," called out Alfred, waving his hand in front of Arthur's face, "you there?"

Arthur nods distractedly, not really in the mood for yelling at Alfred for using those accursed nicknames. "Yes, I just want to see someone . . ." And he looks around the crowd, trying to find Francis. Where was he? Arthur couldn't see him.

"Arthur," began Alfred seriously, causing Arthur to look up at him, startled, "I-I thought I almost lost you. I'm so glad to see you're feeling better already."

Arthur's eyes become soft, completely forgetting what he was originally doing. "Alfred, you don't have to worry for me. I probably would've been fine anyway."

"I don't know about that," Alfred said, resting his face on his hands. "I really thought I lost you. I don't know what I would've done if you actually died during that. What if we came in too late to rescue you? That would've happened to you for a second time. I-I don't feel like a hero anymore, I feel powerless instead, to know that I couldn't protect you from all of this."

Arthur's eyes soften even more, letting a lone tear fall slowly down his face. Alfred acting serious got him all emotional. He put Alfred's hands down and he put his own hands on Alfred's cheeks. Sky blue eyes met forest green eyes.

"Alfred, you're my hero, forever and always." With that said, Arthur gave Alfred a gentle kiss on the lips, both releasing their fears and worries, just relaxing and enjoying the moment.

~ Hetalia! ~

_THE END! I just wish the ending wasn't so cheesy . . . Ah well, this is the end, but there is an EPILOGUE coming soon! _

_Oh man, I can't believe I actually finished this baby. It only feels like yesterday I fell in love with Hetalia and started to write this story. _

_THANK YOU to all of the people that reviewed, favorited this story, read it, or even bothered to click on it! All of you are so sweet, and I'd like to give some special thanks: _

_MelodyOfStarshine, Axxi, IchigoMelon, MAKEMESOMETEA, liliac gurl, summasaur, DaiKuro-chan, bluebird99, omnomnomomagon, scarletphantom55, absolute power, rae1112, Affera, Kirarabluefirecat, The artist formaly known as, Glimmyfrost7, TeaSipper, Deaths-Glance, Meluzina, Dark-Angel-Princess 01, jagaimo-chan, FlyingMintOSM, Eternally1Yours, cirquegirl81, black12345678, chaoshead13, FearOfTheDarkPrince, EnglandsOnlyPride, ArthurIsAwesome, Trimacle, toshiro321, and ninetailfox, AKA all the people who reviewed, thank you so much for the reviews! All of you are wonderful and make me smile. _

_Also, I will be making more stories after this one! Watch out for some of them! After the epilogue is done, I'll probably put a poll out to see which stories you want me to do next!_

_~Aly208_


	19. Epilogue

Arthur lay in his bed cuddling the covers; his limbs splattered and sprawled all over the bed. He let out a content sigh in bliss peace, resting his eyes. Oh, how good it felt to relax and just be alone sometimes . . .

"ARTIE, I HAVE SOMETHING TO SHOW YOU!" A loud, obnoxious voice came from downstairs, followed by a loud shush that must have come from Dylan.

. . . And there went Arthur's peaceful solitude.

Grudgingly, the now irritated Briton propped his elbows down against the mattress and carefully extracted himself from the comfy, warm bed. Arthur shivered involuntarily, the warmth disappearing immediately. Arthur's shoulders slumped as he went into his closet and took out a big, long, green robe that used to be Iain's until he had given it to Arthur a few years ago. Quickly, Arthur slipped on the humongous robe and grabbed a pair of soft, brown slippers.

Arthur straightened his shoulders and fixed the robe so it wasn't crooked, still taking pride in how he looked, despite how he had just rolled out of bed and the garment he wore overpowered him, dragging along the floor like an anchor and the sleeves too long for his arms.

He opened the door and walked out into the hallway with grace, flattening some stubborn cowlicks in his hair. The long passageway led down to the elegant stairs, which Arthur soundlessly stepped on, holding onto the rail for safety precautions. Seamus had once trampled down the stairs, not holding onto the rail . . . the end result wasn't pretty.

The living room was the destination where the stairs ended, so he met Patrick who was watching some mindless television. Arthur said nothing as he passed by, not wanting to disturb his brother. However, Patrick certainly noticed Arthur and looked up from whatever he was watching. He smiled, but it was a grim one. Arthur frowned, wondering why Patrick was smiling like that.

"Hmm, I was wondering why the fighting noises just stopped. They must have heard you coming," Patrick teased, but still wore the same unpleasant smile. He added, "Oh that American git you call a boyfriend is in the kitchen."

Arthur scoffed, walking in the direction to the small kitchen, where he usually was forbidden to enter (he had absolutely no idea _why _his brothers banned him from there). "I have a feeling you're right."

Patrick didn't even bother to reply since Arthur had already walked straight out of the living room to the kitchen. Arthur opened the kitchen door quietly and poked his head inside to take a sneak peek of what was going on.

Well, Arthur really didn't expect to see Alfred standing there, Dylan cooking, Iain reading the newspaper, and Seamus just mindlessly tapping his fingers against the table. OK, he kind of _did _expect this; his brothers were getting along better with Alfred after all these years. Arthur smiled a teeny bit, even if no one in the room was really interacting with one another.

Seamus spied him by the doorway. He stopped tapping his fingers and stood up from his chair. "Baby Kirkland!" he called out, jumping over to Arthur and giving him a hug.

Arthur blinked. Why the hell did Seamus decide to randomly hug him?

"Oi, Iain, look he's wearing your old robe! Aw, isn't he just the perfect daddy's little girl?" Seamus teased, pinching Arthur's cheek. The latter swatted the unwanted hand away.

"If you're implying that Iain is my father and I'm his little girl; then sod off, git," Arthur said, his face coloring red heavily. Dylan gave a slight roll of the eyes while Iain chuckled dryly. Alfred's pupils dilated when he saw Arthur.

"Artie!" The American skidded over to the petit man and hugged him tightly, as if he let go he would lose Arthur. Said man spluttered, the flame on his face spreading to the tip of his ears, not expecting the sudden affection.

After a few silent minutes of Alfred just embracing Arthur closely, Iain cleared his throat loudly, eyeing Alfred. This action caused Alfred to jump off, effectively letting go of Arthur in the process. Dylan pondered over the fact if Iain could cockblock anyone from Arthur.

"Hey squirt, have a good time sleeping?" Iain asked as Arthur took a chair to the table to sit down in, which happened to be right next to the Scot's chair (if Dylan asks about this 'coincidence,' Iain was never there).

Arthur mumbled something incoherent, instead finding the sleeves of his robe very interesting right now. Iain's eyes twinkled, glad to see Arthur wearing his old robe, even though how big it was on him (which totally didn't make Arthur look any cuter, nope), especially on a day like today . . . This day broke everyone's hearts, especially the Kirkland family's.

And Iain just couldn't help himself after remembering the memory, so he ruffled up Arthur's hair and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. Arthur barely comprehended what happened, the kiss so quick that it seemed as if it had never occurred. Why, why was everyone acting so out of character today? Arthur almost asked, but he was too busy gawking at Iain. Yet again Arthur blushed (three times in one morning, a record might he add), and whispered a short thank you under his breath.

Iain grinned so wide that his eyes were squinted. Dylan came over, finishing making breakfast, and gave Arthur a tight hug around the neck, since Arthur was already seated.

"How are you feeling?" whispered Dylan into his younger brother's ear – which was again a brilliant shade of red along with the rest of his face.

"G-good," stuttered out the confused Brit. What was going on? Why was everyone acting so different? Even though Arthur was getting all of this affectionate attention, he kind of wished that Iain and Seamus would tease him until he snapped, chastising both of them for their behavior, but they would do it again anyway, where Dylan was the peace-bringer and would tell them that none of them would get breakfast except for Dylan himself and Patrick, who would usually watch the brawl between his brothers with an amused glint in his eyes. Then everyone would become quiet and sit down, enjoying their meal. Alfred would burst in unexpectedly, and hang around until he eventually managed to do something that pissed off Iain (Arthur never understood why Iain hated Alfred so much, especially that one time when he caught them making out. It wasn't pretty; Iain picked up various objects – whether it was a vacuum or a pair of fuzzy slippers – and threw them at Alfred). In a nutshell, Arthur doesn't like surprises or change. And this was a definite surprise.

Before Arthur could even say anything about this sudden twist in mornings, Patrick suddenly slammed the door to the kitchen open, his face changed to an ecstatic expression instead of the grim one from before, and exclaimed out, "Australia called! He's coming!"

The rest of the Kirklands' cheered, including Arthur, but Alfred just stood there. It wasn't like he hated Australia (well, at least not anymore since he helped him out with Artie), but he still felt neutral about the man.

"Iggy," whined Alfred, his bottom lip sticking out in a pout, "pay attention to me."

For some reason, this statement really irked Iain. _Freaking brat, _thought Iain rudely, _but then again he comforted Arthur . . . and he is also dating Arthur, so back to brat! _

Arthur merely just rolled his eyes and stood up from his spot at the table. He stepped on his tip toes to give Alfred a small peck on the nose. Alfred, feeling mischievous, instead leaned down so Arthur could instead give him a kiss on the lips. A wolf whistle from Patrick indicated that the mission was a success – and that the kiss got more heated.

"Alright you two, no more sucking faces or you'll have to be separated." Seamus rolled his eyes as Arthur abruptly pulled away from Alfred, his face seeming to radiate in complete redness.

"Wait," Arthur began in a few minutes of silence where he was just playing with his too long sleeves, "didn't you call me down here for something?" The question was directly towards Alfred, so the latter opened his big mouth to talk, but nothing came out because there was a knock at the door.

Alfred looked visibly disappointed from not being able to say anything, but the others looked rather excited.

"It's probably Australia," predicted Iain, his eyes bright in happiness, but his voice gruff. He stood up from his spot to answer the door, and on the way purposely tripped Alfred. What? He saw that little ambush Alfred pulled. And he didn't like it at all.

The others piled behind Iain, with Arthur and Alfred the cabooses in the back. Arthur was in the back because he felt not hygienic enough, even though he had walked down to greet Alfred with a robe and bed hair. Alfred was in the back specifically for the reason of Iain – mainly because the man scared him.

"Where's Mum?" was the first thing Australia said when Iain had opened the door. Everyone turned towards the back, looking for Australia's former guardian. When Australia spotted Arthur, he literally jumped and spun the elder man in the air.

"I know it's been a few months since I saw you, Australia, but the first thing you do when you see me is spin me around? Really?" asked Arthur, punching the Aussie lightly on the shoulder to let him down.

Australia, catching the message, let go of Arthur, but not before giving him a large hug. Arthur let out a (totally not manly) shriek.

"Still the same old Mum, I see," Australia said, but had a huge grin on his face as he talked. _Mummy got his spunk back, _thought Australia, smiling even wider at the thought.

Arthur scowled. "What did I tell you about calling me Mum?" 

"You told me not to call you Mum anymore, Mum." Australia smirked, feeling at the moment like a genius as he heard some snickering. If you asked Arthur, he would've said Australia was acting like a smartass.

Suddenly, Arthur looked down at himself, now fully aware of his lack of presentable clothing. His cheeks tinted pink and he said, "I'm going to go change into some clothes and take a shower. I'll be back soon." With that said, he hurriedly went to the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Screw what happened to Seamus, Arthur had to wear acceptable clothing.

The moment that Arthur was out of hearing range, Australia asked, "Okay, what are we going to do about Arthur's party?"

"Well, all the other nations who were invited are currently hiding in the garage right now," explained Dylan. "All we have to do is get them out and decorate the place before Arthur comes down. I'll go get them and all of you bring out the decorations and food. Ready . . . set . . . go!"

Then everything was suddenly in a blur as they all rushed past each other, getting their own supplies out, rushing so they could get this done before Arthur comes out.

~ Hetalia! ~

Arthur was currently in combat of the dangerous war between him versus clothes. The clothes were winning so far. The reason why Arthur was having so much trouble was because he wanted to look really nice due to this morning's mess of himself – and maybe because Australia was here also.

Finally, the indecisive Brit chose a dark green turtleneck and very tight black skinny jeans that were hard to tug on. He cursed himself for trying to be fashionable, but studied himself in the full length mirror.

_Damn, Arthur, you chose pretty well this time, _thought Arthur, turning around so he could see his back as well. _Not bad, not bad at all. _

The outfit overall suited Arthur well, his pants rather snug, especially around his gluteus maximus, the shirt hugged him in all the right places, and yet the whole complete outfit was sharp, simple, and stunning. Sometimes Arthur really loved his sense of style, despite most of the time wearing vests and suits with ties.

So when Arthur was finished studying himself, he gracefully skipped down the stairs, giddy that his outfit was so well-suited for him. Of course, what he saw downstairs made him stop in his tracks and gape.

"SURPRISE!" And what Arthur saw was a boat load of nations, that all had jumped out of their hiding spots to surprise Arthur. The Kirkland family, along with Alfred and Francis (who had been one of the nations hiding out in the garage), rushed out to meet Arthur.

"It's been five years since many of us nations have been kidnapped, and we're throwing a party in honor of you!" explained Seamus, bouncing up and down in ecstatic and excitement.

"We love you, Arthur, and all of this is dedicated to what happened to you all those horrendous five years ago," Iain whispered into Arthur's ear, giving him a smile and a light squeeze on the shoulder. This was all too much for Arthur, and without any warning at all, burst into tears from being so overwhelmed.

Alfred looked wide-eyed at Arthur, not expecting any tears at all. "N-no Artie, don't cry! We t-tried to do this so we could make you happy! Please don't cry! Please?"

Francis merely shook his head, his blonde curls shaking along with the movement. "Arthur is crying from happiness, _Amerique._"

At the sudden sound of Francis's voice, Arthur wiped off some tears with the back of his hand and looked up. Francis smiled warmly at the other blonde and that was all it took for Arthur to throw himself at the Frenchman, squeezing the life out of him.

"And to think _we_ planned this for him, not that slimy frog," scoffed Iain, muttering darkly under his breath from seeing any kind of physical contact with his brother and 'that slimy frog.' Although Iain would never admit it, he was slightly jealous of Francis because he got the first hug from Arthur.

Then Arthur detached himself from Francis, who had also hugged him back in a friendly manner, and first gave Patrick a hug and kissed him on the forehead, repeating the same actions with Dylan, Seamus, and Australia. Then he reached Iain and hugged him tightly, giving him a peck on the lips instead.

"But don't think you're more special than the rest," scolded Arthur playfully, with Iain smiling mischievously.

"Oh really?" asked Iain and took his hands to Arthur's belly, where he tickled his younger brother without any mercy. Arthur began to giggle loudly, telling Iain to stop between laughs and heavy breaths of air. Eventually, the Scot stopped and gave Arthur a very small cuddle. Alfred pouted, wanting to spend some time with his own boyfriend.

Arthur, noticing the pout of Alfred, said, "Don't you worry, Alfred. I would never forget my own sweet boyfriend." The green eyed man escaped Iain's clutches and went into Alfred's arms, giving him a long French kiss and hugging him tightly around the neck at the same time.

After five minutes of this (and more than several wolf whistles), it got awkward and this time Seamus 'accidently' knocked an empty glass to the carpeted floor. The cup didn't break, but it caused a loud thud, loud enough that Arthur heard it and took a step back from Alfred, blushing. Iain and Seamus gave each other a silent high five from behind their backs.

"Come on, let's enjoy this party!" yelled out an overly excited Gilbert standing next to Francis, who had his arm around Matthew's shoulders, whispering sweet nothings into the other's ear. Matthew let out a small giggle, whispering right back in French this time. Both smiled at each other, happy at finding such perfect partners.

~ Hetalia! ~

When the party had ended (which was somewhere around 9:00 p.m.), the Kirkland brothers, Australia, and Alfred were left to clean up the mess. Alfred and Arthur were doing the job of cleaning up the tables, wiping them down with clean wash cloths.

A thought came to Arthur as he began to recall the memories of the party and earlier today. "Wait a minute, Alfred, when you came this morning, didn't you say you had something to show me?"

Alfred put down his cloth on the table, suddenly turning all serious. "Yeah, about that . . . Arthur, I know this isn't very special, but hear me out. When you were kidnapped, Artie, I was so terrified and furious. I had no idea what I would do if I lost you. I knew that I wouldn't be able to survive without you and if something ever happens to you again, I still wouldn't be able to live without you. Now I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you, forever and always.

"So Arthur Kirkland," said Alfred, stepping down on his knee. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box and flipped it open, revealing the pristine, shiny ring inside, "will you marry me?"

Arthur gasped loudly, for the second time today tears filling up in his eyes. "Yes," he sobbed, "yes, I will marry you, Alfred F. Jones." He kissed Alfred and Alfred kissed back just as readily, neither noticing the five pairs of eyes watching them or the five smiling lips.

**~ OMAKE! ~**

Patrick sat at the table, giddy, happy, and enthusiastic at the same time. He bounced up and down on his chair, waiting for Dylan to be done with cooking breakfast. "When do you think America and Artie will tell us they're engaged?" he asked his brothers and Australia.

Seamus shrugged, ruffling up Patrick's hair. "I don't know, but probably soon."

Then there was silence for the next few moments, just chewing and munching being heard. Or at least there was silence until Patrick said in a very loud voice:

"Isn't the engaged couple supposed to wait _after _marriage to have sex? Because when I passed by Arthur's room, I kept hearing Arthur moan Al–" Suddenly, Patrick's mouth was clamped shut by Dylan's hand. Everyone turned to look at Iain, who was too quiet at this point. They had all expected him to rush up the stairs and pound on the door which Alfred and Arthur were in. Instead, Iain was just calmly chewing his eggs.

"What? I think Arthur is responsible enough to choose who can take his second-virginity, especially to the man who's going to become our brother-in-law." The whole table of Kirkland brothers all shivered here. Iain continued, "I mean I can't shield him forever."

The others just shrugged, taking that as a reasonable explanation from Iain. But only one very sharp Welsh eye noted the tension lines around Iain and Iain's twitching left eye.

Later that day, when Alfred and Arthur had already came down, dinner was just about to start and they all sat down in their respectful seats. Arthur stood standing awkwardly by his chair while everyone else sat down. When asked why he wasn't sitting down by Australia, Arthur blushed heavily and said that it hurt to sit down.

Iain had then stood up with a loud sound emitting from his chair, his face emotionless and his left eye twitching, and dragged Alfred by the ear out of the room. A loud punch was echoed from the living room.

As Arthur ran out to see what had happened between his older brother and fiancé, Dylan chuckled under his breath. He _knew _Iain wouldn't last that long. Seamus owed him six pounds . . .

~ Hetalia! ~

_THE END! Oh, I truly hoped that all of you who read this story enjoyed it! Thank you all so much! Oh, and yes there should be a poll in my profile within the next two weeks about choosing the next story, so check every day! _

_(I could not resist that omake there, it was too cute not to~) _

_Have a great/excellent/fantastic day! _

_~Aly208_


	20. Author's Note

Hi.

I just wanted to put up this author's note to tell all of you that the poll for choosing the next Hetalia story for me is up and running!

The poll will continue to be open until **March 11 **or otherwise two weeks from today, **February 25. **

After the given two weeks, I'll take probably around one–three weeks to plan the winning story. Therefore, the first chapter of the story will not be up until **late March or early April. **

There are four story options to choose from, all of them centering on Arthur. Just click on my profile name to see the poll! Click on it: go!

~Aly208


	21. Author's Note Again

Hey, again.

All right, so the poll is now over and the winner was **You Can't Distort Love**. Congratulations to all of those who voted for this story! In addition, thank you for all that voted, anyways.

The prologue is up, but it may take a few hours to show up. I'm so sorry it's late, but that cursed Fanfiction Type 2 Error continued to bug me! When I found out I could post it, I literally jumped for joy. Jeez, it felt like that error was there for forever.

That was all I wanted to mention. Thank you once again!

~Aly208


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